The Resistance
by Cassandra147
Summary: Fifth year AU. Umbridge becomes Headmistress. Voldemort lurks in shadows, awaiting his chance. In Dumbledore's absence, Minerva McGonagall decides to take matters into her own hands.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is my first published attempt. I make no promises concerning its completion. Constructive feedback would be appreciated. Thank you for reading.

Chapter 1:

Moonlight glinted off the towers of Hogwarts castle. A soft breeze teased the leaves of the Forbidden Forest, coasting across the mirrored surface of the lake, and tickled the noses of the winged boars standing guard at the gates. In the stillness of the night, all seemed calm and serene, not a hint of the war raging inside the walls or of the threat that lurked in the shadows of the Wizarding world. The castle slept for the moment, except for the rare student sneaking to the kitchens for late night snack or a professor making rounds to catch said student. It had been only a week since Albus Dumbledore, the longtime headmaster of Hogwarts had been forced to flee the school by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and his unsavory crony, Dolores Umbridge.

_And everything has gone to hell_, thought Minerva McGonagall as her hands pressed into the intricate carvings on the balcony railing. Still dressed, albeit with her customary emerald robe open to reveal black trousers and sepia sweater, she had only just completed her circuit of the castle and decided to step outside for a breathe of air before returning to the mountain of paperwork awaiting her. Apparently, the new Headmistress required a full review of the finances and curriculum of Hogwarts School. _Not the she would have the least idea of how to actually run the school. Blasted woman has probably never even read __Hogwarts: A History__. _Her lips thinned as a virulent combination of disgust, anger, and quite possibly hatred, swelled to the surface. Thoughts of the indignities and injustices inflicted upon the inhabitants of Hogwarts by that toad fed the fire. Between the damned decrees and the Blood Quill, Minerva had barely managed to rein in her fury so far. Now, with Albus banished, she knew that Umbridge would only escalate, reveling in her newfound power. And as the only trusted member of the Order, Severus would never be trusted by students outside his house, she would be forced to bite her tongue and keep her wand lowered to remain at Hogwarts. It was the only way she could continue to protect the students. Without a Head or at least a Deputy Head, the castle wards would be almost totally ineffective against a concentrated attack. The thought of bowing to Umbridge made her stomach twist and her palms itch for her wand. Almost absentmindedly, she conjured a handful of flames. They danced up and down her arms at her command. _Something has to be done. _

With a quick clenching of her fist, she extinguished the flames and returned inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"Good morning, Minerva." Filius greeted the Deputy Headmistress as she neared the table the next morning. Pomona and Poppy both echoed the remark while Severus merely inclined his head ever so slightly. For Severus, however, that was the best welcome anyone was likely to receive.

"Good morning, Filius, Pomona, Poppy, Severus," Minerva replied as she took a seat between Severus and Pomona. After pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice, she glanced around the Great Hall. As per the usual at this hour, students had just barely begun stumbling down to breakfast. The lull would not last long. Within the next thirty minutes, the remaining professors and most of the students would appear. For now, Minerva settled back to enjoy her breakfast and tea in a relative peace.

Bang! The teachers' entrance sprang open to admit Rolanda Hooch.

"Have you seen the latest Daily Prophet rubbish?" she demanded as she approached the table, her referee voice booming across the Great Hall. She slapped the folded paper down on the table. "Have you read the nonsense that they are calling news?"

"Not yet," Minerva answered. "What have they concocted today?"

"Read it for yourself." Rolanda slapped the issue down on the table. "I would like to trap that woman in a room full of Bludgers and throw away the key." As Rolanda parked herself next to Flitwick, Minerva unrolled the paper. Severus leaned in to read alongside her.

MINISTRY APPOINTED HEADMISTRESS HAILED

Britain's Magical Public Endorses Change of Power at Hogwarts

On the heels of Albus Dumbledore's treachery against the ministry, Dolores Umbridge, now appointed to the prestigious post of Headmistress, has received universal acclaim for her work. Parents applaud the Ministry's quick response and laud Headmistress Dolores Umbridge for taking on the momentous task of reclaiming Hogwarts School and restoring its reputation as the premiere Wizarding school in Europe. While the damage done by the former Headmaster cannot be repaired overnight, encouraging reports show that improvement has been made within the first of week of the new Headmistress' tenure. Students and professors alike welcomed their new leader with open arms and heartfelt thanks. Of her appointment, Headmistress Umbridge humbly says, "I only hope to return Hogwarts to its proper place in the Wizarding world and to bring the best education possible to the children of Britain." For more coverage, turn to page three.

For a complete record of Albus Dumbledore's crimes against the ministry, see page five. For a list of the endorsements of Headmistress Dolores Umbridge, see page four.

"Remind me to cancel my subscription. I never thought the Prophet capable of sinking to this level." Disgusted, Minerva passed the paper to Filius. "If Jeremiah Aldridge was still in charge, Cornelius would never have been able to print this propaganda." _Or if his son possessed a spine,_ she thought privately. Jeremiah, who had attended school with Minerva, had never once wavered from the pursuit of the truth. His son, on the other hand, allowed the likes of Rita Skeeter and Cornelius Fudge to overrun the paper with despicable lies. Her appetite thoroughly ruined, McGonagall rose, intent upon leaving the hall before their _esteemed_ Headmistress chose to bless them with her presence.

"Hem, hem, well, you must understand that things are different now Professor Sinistra." Unfortunately, Umbridge foiled this plan as she entered with Professor Sinistra. The pink monstrosity which Umbridge called an outfit caused Minerva to wince internally. No woman, certainly no professor at Hogwarts, should wear bright pink past the age of ten. The bow perched in her hair reinforced the absurdity of this woman being placed in charge of Hogwarts. Minerva paused as the Toad seated herself in Albus' chair, reminding herself forcefully that hexing the woman would achieve no positive lasting results. _Unless I used something stronger, perhaps demonstrate exactly why I am a Transfiguration Mistres_s.

"Leaving already, dear?" the Toad queried as Minerva swept behind her.

"I'm afraid, Dolores, that I have things to attend to before my first class." McGonagall delivered her crisp reply as she swung the door open. Severus, who had followed closely behind her, cut off Umbridge's response as he shut the door firmly. Together, the two professors began climbing the staircase leading towards McGonagall's office.

Once safely inside, Severus spoke, "What are you planning, Minerva?"

"Why would you assume that I am planning anything, Severus?" She reached for the teapot to pour each of them a cup of a tea. Handing Severus his, she leaned against her desk.

"Because despite the general opinion that you are in every way a Gryffindor, and therefore incapable of any sort of deceit, I know you better. How are we going to get rid of this incompetent buffoon?" Minerva let a slight smile curve her lips. Severus Snape was nothing if not observant. Without that skill, he would have been killed early on in his service as a spy.

"I have some ideas. However, I would appreciate any suggestions you might offer. As you said, a Gryffindor is perhaps not the most suitable person to run an underground resistance." Snape's eyes glinted maliciously. The Potions master, like Minerva herself, had little tolerance for fools. It was high time that the professors of Hogwarts educated Umbridge about the perils of interfering at the school.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I realized that I forgot a disclaimer in my first two chapters. This will probably divulge from canon events and disregard information provided in the subsequent books.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. I'm certainly not making money off of this.

Chapter 3:

Two hours later, Snape surveyed the classroom of second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws attempting to brew a simple Burn Balm. Students watched him with a wary eye as he strode about the room, snidely remarking upon mistakes as he went. However, Severus' mind remained focused on his conversation with his fellow Head of House earlier that morning. After all, overseeing such talentless students required only a fraction of his concentration. The obligatory Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry aside, Minerva McGonagall was one of the few people Severus could tolerate and, not that he would ever admit it to, respect. It was widely acknowledged by the student population that the two Heads of Houses were the strictest teachers in the school. Professor Snape perhaps won the award for the most frightening professor, but Professor McGonagall certainly commanded obedience from the entire school including the staff. Even the Headmaster rarely dared to cross her.

_With good reason_, thought the Potions Master. In her capacity as Deputy Headmistress, Minerva oversaw the day-to-day operations of the school. He remembered the first piece of advice given to him by Flitwick upon becoming a professor. _Don't get on Minerva's bad side, Severus. She controls the finances, the supplies, and the scheduling, not to mention that Albus listens to her without question. _It was the only piece of advice he had taken as the effect of having her as a professor had not entirely worn off at that point. Over the years, they had bickered constantly over Quidditch and his teaching methods, but McGonagall had treated him without prejudice.

"Can you not read, Mr. Stanwood? I believe that I clearly wrote the two abga leaves are required, not three thyme leaves," Snape swooped down on the unfortunate Hufflepuff. The boy jumped as Severus snatched the leaves from the hand hovering above the cauldron. "If you had been so thickheaded as to add these leaves, Mr. Stanwood, you would have found yourself in need of a new arm. Might I suggest reading the instructions unless your purpose is to blow yourself up? In that case, feel free to remove a dunderhead such as yourself from my class on a permanent basis." Ignoring the boy's stammering reply, Snape continued to his desk, pondering how best to carry out the plan he and Minerva had outlined that morning

"We need to force the issue into public view. Potter's interview with the _Quibbler_ was a decent start, but nowhere near enough to dismantle Cornelius' power base. Most of the Wizarding world would rather let the Minister lead them around by the nose than admit to the possibility of You-Know-Who's return. Whatever we do here must be communicated to the outside world." Minerva paused, turning over strategies in her mind.

"Agreed. We can hardly rely on the likes of the Weasley twins and Potter to run that woman and Fudge out of office," Severus concurred. "Her next target will be you, Minerva. Your close ties to the Headmaster and your authority within the school threaten her position."

"I know, Severus. We might be able to use that against her."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Albus has always been known for being eccentric and frankly a bit distant from the ordinary Wizarding population. That made it much easier for Cornelius to discredit him. The public would rather believe that Albus' mind has finally started to fail him, than accept You-Know-Who's return. As for Potter, few people outside of the school have actually met him. A teenager is not the most likely person to be believed in any case." Minerva refilled her cup, continuing, "On the other hand, my reputation is built upon almost forty years of teaching. If I didn't teach an individual himself, I've taught his children, his nieces and nephews, or the children of his close friends. I have never involved myself in politics nor have I been publicly recognized as a hero. The Ministry will have an uphill battle to sway public sentiment against me."

"Your association with the Headmaster-" Severus began.

"Will not be a problem. Gryffindors are known for their loyalty. It would seem uncharacteristic if I were to suddenly abandon that friendship." Minerva slipped into her chair and tapped the lowest right-hand drawer with her wand. It sprung open, revealing a series of files. Extracting a folder, Minerva handed it to Severus who had taken the chair opposite her. Snape thumbed through the contents quickly, mildly impressed with the scope. It contained information on both Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge, starting from their school reports and ending with details regarding the association with Lucius Malfoy and the Educational Decrees.

"How did you obtain this information?"

"As soon as Dumbledore informed me of Dolores' appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I retrieved the school records from storage. Alastor, Kingsley, and a few others helped gather the rest. Dolores attended school before I arrived, but Dumbledore taught her. Apparently, she lacks skill in virtually every area of instruction. She barely managed to graduate. Her Tranfiguration, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts scores are appalling." Minerva's voice dripped with scorn. _Hermione Granger performed more complicated spells in her first year than the Toad could execute in her seventh. _"Cornelius was an average student, no particular strengths or weaknesses. Dumbledore told me that he never believed Cornelius capable of this."

"Apparently, the Minister's office has inflated his ego beyond reason. I fail to understand why the Wizarding public allowed the appointment of an incompetent like him to the position."

"The whole debacle over his son forced Crouch out of the running and Dumbledore would not consider accepting the post. Cornelius appeared harmless and comforting to the public after the war. Moreover, it was understood that Dumbledore and the more experienced members of the Ministry would be available to advise Cornelius as needed." Minerva thought back to days in which Fudge would send the Headmaster daily requests for assistance. More than once, she had encouraged Albus to use the letters for kindling and inform the Minister that he would have to simply muddle through on his own. Albus, far more tolerant than his Deputy, always responded politely with suggestions and support. _And now Cornelius, you have invented a conspiracy with Albus as its architect to overthrown you. Blasted fool. Albus never desired to be Minister. He would never willingly leave Hogwarts and he has no need of a Ministry position to boost his power. Not that he ever wished for power._

Severus' voice brought Minerva's focus back on the conversation. "How do you propose we use her inevitable attempt to remove you from Hogwarts against both of them?"

"We force her to take me to trial." Silence greeted her. Minerva silently rejoiced at surprising the normally unflappable Slytherin. Very few things started Severus Snape.

"Perhaps I misheard you. You want to bring this to trial. A trail in which the outcome will have already been decided beforehand." Severus spoke slowly as one might to a child. She could not seriously be suggesting that they allow Umbridge and Fudge to throw her in Azkaban, to formally charge her with treason, and to drag her name through the mud in court. Regardless of any concern he _might_ feel towards Minerva, the idea of Hogwarts coping without the expertise of its Deputy Headmistress promised chaos. The school would grind to a halt, not to mention the danger posed by leaving the school sans a Head.

"Severus, treason is difficult to prove. Umbridge and Fudge would have to present solid evidence. Other than my association with Dumbledore, they have none. In the process of a trial, evidence against the current administration could be presented as well. I'm not entirely without other allies. I believe that I can guarantee that the trial will be conducted with unrestricted press coverage and in accordance with the law. In regards to the wards, the Headmaster's suite has refused Umbridge entrance. Dumbledore will be able to stay there to maintain the wards." Minerva's piercing gaze caught Severus'. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Dumbledore will never approve." _Dumbledore would never permit his closest friend to risk herself. But could he stop her?_

"Contrary to popular belief, Severus, I do not live and breathe at Albus' direction. I am quite capable of acting on my own." Minerva's voice took on a scolding tone. He nodded his head in acceptance. _As long as I don't have to be the messenger of this particular piece of information. _Severus recalled a rare situation a few years ago during which the governing pair of Hogwarts had been at odds. The temperature had dropped ten degrees whenever they were in the same room. The actual arguments occurred behind closed doors, but the tension could be felt by every member of the staff. He did not look forward to a repeat of that situation. Minerva McGonagall remained the only person who seemed to be able to completely forget Dumbledore's status and power and to treat the Headmaster as a mere human being. Her practicality and attention to detail balanced the Headmaster's unconventional style and tendency to focus on the larger picture. Undeniably, the Headmaster valued her input and friendship highly which meant he was very likely to balk at the idea of using Minerva as the sacrificial lamb to bring down Fudge's administration. _Not that Minerva McGonagall could ever be considered a lamb. The woman survived forty years as Dumbledore's second-in-command. _

"I suppose that I can't persuade you to change your mind? I shudder to think of the state Hogwarts will devolve to in your absence. I would hate to run out of Potions supplies because your replacement forgot to order them."

"Your concern for my welfare is touching Severus. But, unless you can come up with a better alternative?" No reply was forthcoming. "Then I suggest we wait until an opportunity presents itself. The Defense Against the Dark Arts post may be limited to a year's term, but I'm afraid we cannot be assured that some sort of accident will befall Dolores now that she has made herself Headmistress. She might voluntarily give up the post to another Ministry lackey. We may have to be patient. In the meantime, I see no reason why we should not permit the students to demonstrate the difficulties inherent in running a school like Hogwarts."

"In other words, allow the Weasley twins and their compatriots free rein to make a mockery of our dear Headmistress' first term," interpreted Snape. "Provided that they do not disrupt competent professors' classes and refrain from serious bodily harm, a demonstration, as you say, might be exactly what Umbridge needs to prove herself."

"Precisely, Severus." _Trial by fire, Dolores, trial by fire. Until now, you have been protected by Albus' presence and the other staff members who refused to help you damage his reputation further by allowing the school to deteriorate while under his authority. That protection disappeared when you forced him to flee. I have no objection to letting the students make your life miserable. If I can manage to do so discreetly, I'll even help them. Including the Weasley twins and Peeves._ Under normal circumstances, Minerva would never have considered condoning the pranks and disturbances, but for Umbridge, she was more than willing to make an exception. Satisfied in Severus' tacit agreement to participate in her plan, Minerva turned the conversation to other topics. When the bell chimed for the first class, Minerva rose, indicating that she would leave first. Severus waited a few seconds before following her. As it stood, Umbridge thought that the relationship between the Gryffindor and Slytherin Heads of House was at best indifferent and at worst hostile. Severus knew that Umbridge considered him an ally, or at least, not an enemy due to their shared distaste for Potter. It suited their purposes to let her believe that Professor Snape would not cooperate with Professor McGonagall.

The bell clanged, signaling the end of the period. Snape returned his attention to his class long enough to assign a foot of parchment about the use of Burn Balm. After the last student scuttled out the door, Snape began the process of refilling the ingredient bottles in preparation of his next class. As he replenished the store of abga leaves, he entertained himself with imaging Umbridge's downfall. Humiliation and anguish, he decided, would definitely be the order of the day. He would thoroughly enjoy watching Minerva destroy Umbridge and Fudge. _When it comes to protecting her cubs, I would not get between Minerva and her objective._


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: The orchids mentioned are very nice. Additionally, one specific plant hints at my home state. See if you can spot it. I'm trying to post longer chapters and the action should pick up soon. However, I do tend to write slower pieces overall so keep that in mind. And I'm rambling…on with the show!

Disclaimer: Recognize it = I don't own it. I may have borrowed the flower arrangements from another fanfic writer. If you are that writer, please tell me and I will credit you.

Chapter 4:

"Don't forget to stopper your bottles, please." Professor Sprout smiled, watching her fourth year students scramble to finish and be free for the Easter holidays. _A good collection today_. _Poppy will be pleased_. Bubotuber plants were not the most attractive organisms on the planet, but they served a useful purpose. Breathing in the warm, damp air of the greenhouse, Pomona reflected upon the wonders of an entire week free from classes. While she genuinely loved her profession, the incidents of the past few months had been hard on everyone. She had been forced to neglect her side projects for some time. There were a few finicky seedlings of Hyssop which needed her undivided attention. They had been sent to her by a fellow Herbologist in the United States and were still adjusting to their new home.

"I think I'll ask Longbottom if he wouldn't mind helping me," Pomona mused out loud. Pomona knew the boy struggled in his other classes, but he was shaping up to be a fine Herbologist one day. Patient and gentle, Longbottom treated the plants with great care. Herbology certainly wasn't a flashy subject like Transfiguration or Charms nor was it esoteric like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. However, there was a certain unique pleasure derived from helping a living organism grow from seed into a mature plant. The time and effort required made the end result all the more satisfying. Sprout gathered up the bottles of pus, settling them gently into a specially padded and enlarged bag. With one last glance to make sure everything was well, Pomona exited the greenhouse. Looking the door behind her, Pomona headed up towards the castle. Students clustered in groups across the lawn, taking advantage of the fine weather.

"That will be ten points from Ravenclaw, Stebbins. Watch where you are going next time." Sprout located the source of the sneering voice. _Draco Malfoy, who else would it be?_ The blond Slytherin stood towering over Stebbins, a second year Ravenclaw boy, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him on either side. The Inquisitorial brooch glistened on his robes. Malfoy and his companions had never been among Pomona's favorite students. In class, Malfoy frequently disregarded her instructions and ended up hurting the plants. Crabbe and Goyle used more force than necessary, pulling off tender leaves and shoots. Pomona also disliked the way they bullied the younger students. More than one Hufflepuff had come to her in tears with a tale of their cruelty.

Stebbins tried to defend himself. "But you bumped into me," he asserted, looking confused and scared.

"No. _You_ bumped into _me_. And that will be another five points for cheek," said Malfoy, a supercilious smile firmly etched onto his features.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Stebbins, what has happened here?" Sprout broke into the conversation. Malfoy started, apparently not realizing that she had approached while he was focuses on his victim.

"I was just informing Stebbins that his clumsiness has cost Ravenclaw fifteen points," said Malfoy.

"Mr. Stebbins?"

"I was walking Professor and Malfoy slammed into me," said Stebbins. Professor Sprout considered the situation. She had no doubt that Stebbins was telling the truth. Malfoy and the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad were using every excuse, frequently making them up, to take points from the other Houses.

"Professor?" Jacqueline Richards, a sixth year Hufflepuff came up to the group. "I saw Malfoy jostle Andrew."

"Thank you, Ms. Richards. Fifteen points to Ravenclaw. Mr. Malfoy I suggest that you move along before I take points from Slytherin." Sprout ignored Malfoy's venomous glare as she ushered Andrew ahead of her into the Entrance Hall. She reflected that she had sounded more like Minerva or Severus than herself. _All of us are a little on edge, lately._ _Speaking of…_

"Minerva!" The tall witch paused halfway up the staircase. Pomona hurried to catch up with the Deputy Headmistress, her sack bouncing against her hip. "I just caught Mr. Malfoy attempting to take points from Mr. Stebbins. This is really getting out of control. Whoever heard of students being allowed to dictate punishment?"

"Our current Headmistress obviously, Pomona. Mr. Malfoy seems to be under the impression that he can run roughshod over the rest of the student population. Bubotuber pus for Poppy?" Minerva subtly altered her gait to accommodate Pomona's shorter legs as they reached the third floor.

"Her stores have been running a bit low. I've been meaning to speak to you about Neville Longbottom's career counseling," said Pomona.

"I assure you, Pomona, I will steer him towards a career working with Herbology. I'm well aware that his greatest strengths lie in that direction," Minerva responded, her tone slightly sharper than normal. With a light push, Minerva swung the doors to the hospital wing open. Noticing that Poppy was occupied treating the scrapes of a student, the two merely nodded in her direction and continued into the nurse's office. Pomona carefully set the sack down on the desktop before turning back to Minerva.

"You have always been attentive to your students, Minerva. I don't doubt that. However, I would be happy to talk with him as well in case he has any specific questions," Pomona replied soothingly.

"My apologies, Pomona. I'm afraid that I haven't been able to devote as much attention to my students as I would have liked this year." At Minerva's words, Pomona began to scrutinize the elder witch more carefully. Lines of tension crisscrossed her features with distinctive shadows lingering beneath her eyes. _She has lost weight, too._ More than anything, Minerva's appearance drove home the understanding that the Wizarding world was once again at war. In the previous conflict with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Minerva had been run ragged as she attempted to juggle two jobs at once. With Dumbledore away dealing with You-Know-Who and the Ministry, Minerva had frequently governed the school singlehandedly for significant periods of time. Her friend had rushed from task to task, barely pausing to eat or sleep. She and Filius had tried to lighten her burden wherever they could, but Minerva consistently told them to focus on the students and let her take care of everything else. _With Albus gone, Minerva must be working overtime to keep the school running smoothly. Dolores certainly isn't making it easy. _

"Pomona, I'm quite fine so you can stop looking at me as if I'm about to collapse." _Typical Minerva,_ Pomona thought, _Never admit to being less than fine. If Albus were here, he might be able to coax her to relax for a little bit. She is probably missing him more than anyone. _Averting her gaze, Pomona led the way out of Poppy's office. Pomona smiled at Poppy's exclamations over the injured student's attempt to avoid taking a dose of potion. The Hogwarts' Matron didn't brook argument when it came it health matters. Eventually, the patient would concede to her guidance. Chuckling at the young man's antics, Pomona kept pace with Minerva as she headed in the direction of the staffroom. Thankfully, Umbridge would be teaching at this time and unable to eavesdrop on the other professors' conversations.

Upon entering, Pomona made a mental note to replace the flowers on each of the House Heads' desks. Severus, who would probably use any actual flowers to test flame potions on, had a simple display of ferns. Filius preferred bluebonnets, delphiniums, and irises. Her own vase brimmed with bright yellow daisies, marigolds, and daffodils. Minerva's consisted of rich red cymbidium orchids and a few roses. Charity, Aurora, and Poppy all received arrangements for their offices or quarters as well. When Dolores had mentioned that she would like flowers as well, Pomona had flatly refused. There were limits to her good nature. Dolores frequently squashed those limits underneath her hideous shoes.

"Marking, Minerva? You should at least take the rest of the day off. You don't have any more classes and it is officially Easter break," Pomona said, noticing that Minerva had retrieved a stack of parchments. She fixed herself a cup of chamomile tea and chose a gingerbread biscuit from the selection laid out by the house-elves. With a satisfied sigh, she melted into an armchair.

"Actually, I need to finish these before tomorrow. My seventh years asked for help reviewing for their NEWTs over the break starting on Sunday. These are their latest assignments," replied Minerva, dipping her quill into the red ink.

"Why can't you do them tomorrow?" asked Pomona.

"I'm afraid that I won't have time. Which reminds me, would you and Filius cover for me tomorrow? I need to leave the school and I certainly don't want Dolores to find out. My business should only take a couple of hours." Pomona sat up straight, her curiosity aroused.

"Why are you leaving the grounds?" she queried. _She wouldn't…no…it's too risky and obvious. But if Dolores doesn't know…_

"I'm not meeting Dumbledore, Pomona." Minerva correctly deduced Pomona's line of thinking. "I'm afraid that is all I am able to tell you. You need plausible deniability in case anyone ever asks you about this."

"Can Filius and I help? I want that woman gone as much as you. I've been tempted to humor her request for an arrangement and substitute plants from the advanced greenhouses. A fanged geranium or two would be perfectly excusable. Filius told me that she implied that he didn't deserve to use a wand. If the dueling club still existed, I wouldn't be surprised if he challenged her. Mr. Jordan overheard us and offered to commentate." _When Pomona starts plotting_, Minerva thought, _the situation has become intolerable. _Easygoing and motherly, Pomona's ire was difficult to provoke except with a direct threat to her students or plants. Pomona and Filius, kindly and light-hearted, balanced out the strictness of herself and Severus. _Filius has more humanity in one finger than she has in her entire body. The dueling idea is not entirely without merit though. We could use the Quidditch pitch. "Dolores, would you like to demonstrate the abilities of a Ministry witch?" She wouldn't be able to refuse without looking incompetent. It would serve her right if Filius humiliated her in front of the entire study body It would only take one or two spells, sixty seconds at the maximum. Maybe Filius could be persuaded to drag it out. It could even be instructional for the students. "Students, watch closely as Professor Flitwick demonstrates the Tap Dance Charm. The next one is the Jelly-Legs Jinx. " Merlin knows, we could all use the amusement. _

Shaking the pleasant image out of her mind, Minerva said, "At the moment, both of you shouldn't do anything to jeopardize your positions. However, there might be ways in which you can help unobtrusively. Make a record of Dolores' punishments if you can convince the students to report them to you and include any other action on her part which seems improper. It could come in useful in the future."

"We can certainly do that. Between the two of us, I think we can keep Dolores distracted while you are away tomorrow." Pomona smiled, anticipating the joy of undermining the Headmistress. As Minerva returned to her marking, Pomona speculated on Minerva's plans for the Toad. _I wonder who started that nickname. The inventor deserves fifty, no, one hundred points. If you had any sense whatsoever, Dolores, you would vacate the castle immediately. _


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I would like to extend my deep gratitude to my reviewers. You inspire me to continue and to post quickly.

Chapter 5:

"I do believe it's about time," said Flitwick after checking his pocket watch. "Minerva did say she needed to leave at about noon?" Professors Sprout, Flitwick, Sinistra, and Madame Pomfrey were in the midst of lunch in the Great Hall. Brilliant sunlight streamed in through the windows. Lifting everyone's spirits, the skies promised a perfect spring day. Already students could be found stretched out underneath trees, playing games, or skipping stones across the lake only to have them bounced back towards them by the giant squid. _A perfect day to inflict a punishment designed to keep the offender indoors and chained to a very dull task, _thought Filius. _Although Dolores is not the type of person to appreciate such a wonderful spring day._

"Sometime around then, she will be gone for no more than two hours," replied Pomona. "We just have to prevent Dolores from noticing her absence." During their shared rounds the night before, Pomona had shared the details of her conversation with Minerva. Intrigued, and more than a little pleased to aid in destabilizing Umbridge, Filius had contributed the plan to distract Umbridge today as well as agreeing to keep a log of her activities.

"Where is she going?" Sinistra broke in from her seat beyond Poppy on the other side of Filius. As she leant closer, her sleeve caught Poppy's goblet, tipping the grapefruit juice onto the tablecloth. "Oops, sorry, Poppy," she apologized quickly. Hurriedly, she grasped a napkin and tried to mop up the spill.

"It's alright, dear," reassured Poppy, "don't worry about it."

"Allow me, Aurora, Poppy," offered Filius. With a light flick of his wand, the stain disappeared.

"Thank you, Filius." Aurora smiled gratefully. "I've been a little clumsy today. I was up until three this morning. These clear nights have been a blessing for stargazing. I found I simply couldn't go inside." Filius grinned, understanding her passion for her particular field of study. When focuses on a complex warding or elemental summoning, the melody of the spell entranced him. He had been known to lose himself in the intricacies involved in creating spells to the point that he forgot to eat. While the primary component of a professor's job consisted of teaching, they habitually continued researching and developing new knowledge. Filius devoted time every summer to attend conferences and to collaborate on projects with other Charms specialists. In accordance with tradition, Dumbledore had always supported these efforts. _Dolores would never consider me a worthy delegate to a conference, much less support my independent projects,_ he thought bitterly. Despite his respected reputation, Dolores was blinded by her prejudice. _The only reason that I haven't been sacked is that Minerva currently presents a larger threat. And Dolores can't afford to cut teachers this close to the exams. She certainly couldn't prep the students. If the students do poorly on the exams, it would reflect badly on her. _

"No bother at all, Aurora. Minerva wouldn't tell Pomona where she is going. However, she did ask one other favor." Filius explained about the record regarding Dolores to Poppy and Aurora.

"I'll begin logging in incidents immediately," avowed Pomfrey. "That woman is proving more dangerous than broomsticks to the students' health. I've noticed a steady increase in the number of injuries since she had herself declared Headmistress. Students are turning on each other. She's a menace." Nodding his head gravely, Filius recalled the scuffle yesterday evening between two sixth years. One of them, an Inquisitorial Squad member, had attempted to take points from Kenneth Towler, a Gryffindor. Towler retaliated by transfiguring the Slytherin's robes into a frilly pink tutu. The situation deteriorated from there, eventually landing both in the hospital wing. The Slytherin escaped even a reprimand while Towler received two weeks of detention.

"I'll do what I can too. Unfortunately, I usually am the last person to know anything." Aurora's office, quarters, and classroom were located in the Astronomy Tower which meant she often missed events in the rest of the castle. "Except Sibyll of course," Aurora added. "Although, I think the threat of removal from Hogwarts shocked her into awareness."

"I'm sure that whatever you can gather will be appreciated." With a soft whoosh, a Great Gray Owl swooped in to perch on Filius' chair arm as he spoke. Intelligent eyes peered at Filius as Glaucus extended his leg. After detaching the proffered scroll, Filius filled a goblet with ice water and presented it to Glaucus. The owl sipped a token amount, hooting in a dignified sort of way as if to say "Thank you." _Like mistress, like familiar. Albus managed to find an owl to suit Minerva perfectly. _Several years ago, Minerva's previous owl had succumbed to old age. Alcestis, a Spotted Owl, had carried Minerva's correspondence faithfully for almost twenty-five years. As the weeks passed, Minerva had not shown any signs of replacing her. Instead, she used the school owls, claiming that she simply had not found an acceptable replacement. _She didn't fool any of us. She missed Alcestis._ Then Professor Kettleburn found a juvenile Great Gray Owl on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Still young enough to need care, Dumbledore conspired with Kettleburn to render the owl into Minerva's care. Despite Minerva's initial protests that she did not have time to coddle a fledgling, Minerva assured that wherever she was, the youngling could be as well. While teaching, the owl had first a basket and then a perch next to desk. At mealtimes, Minerva fed him the choicest tidbits of meat. Finally, after a few weeks of this, Kettleburn asked Minerva if she intended to give the owl a name. Minerva replied that since the Headmaster and he had manipulated her into accepting the owl, they were responsible for naming him. She had never requested the charge after all. Albus promptly chose Glaucus, the name of the owl belonging to the goddess who was Minerva's namesake. From that point onwards, the owl served as Minerva's familiar. Regally dressed in slate gray feathers with keen amber eyes, Glaucus only permitted a rare few individuals to handle him, but had never failed to deliver a message. Today, the note he carried was brief. It read, "Now_." _

A flash of pink cardigan attracted Filius' attention. _Perfect timing, Dolores._ He caught Pomona's eye and nodded. _Time to, how do the students say it, get this show on the road._ A quiet hoot and rush of wings signaled Glaucus' departure.

"Aurora, Poppy, just follow our lead," he said quickly as Dolores approached the staff table. Raising his voice, he began, "I do hope that the exams go smoothly this year. I would hate for any incidents to happen which would affect the students' evaluations."

"I hope so too, Professor Flitwick," Pomona took up the thread of the conversation. Dolores reached the table and set herself down next to Pomona. "I wouldn't want anything to mar the good record that Hogwarts has achieved over the centuries."

"That would be terrible. Especially considering the change in leadership this year." At this point, he turned towards Dolores. "I imagine the pressure to succeed from the Ministry, not to mention the Wizarding public must be tremendous."

Dolores' face broadcast her confusion at this sympathetic comment. However, perhaps believing that she was merely finally receiving her due, she contorted her face into sanctimonious smile. "I'm glad that you appreciate the difficulties of my position. The Minister is expecting quality results."

"Of course, Dolores, naturally," Filius concurred.

Right on cue, Pomona said, "I assume that you have charmed the parchment for the exams already Dolores? Professor Dumbledore usually completed that task before the Easter holidays."

"Charmed the parchment …" Dolores trailed off.

"With Anti-Cheating Charms to ensure that exams are fair. You know students, if there is a shortcut," Pomona sighed disappointedly, "well, the temptation could prove too great. With Anti-Cheating Charms, the risk is completely eliminated."

"And the Headmaster or Headmistress always bewitches the parchment in order to avoid any suggestion of a professor subtly aiding their students by imbuing the right answers into the paper," Filius explained. He glanced at the Headmistress. "However, if you feel that you are not able to perform the necessary spells, I'm sure that the Heads of Houses could step in to pick up the slack."

"It's a relatively straightforward spell," added Pomona. "While the examiners would have to accept the work if the Heads of Houses did it, they would consider it less than ideal. It would call the Head's competency into question." Gleefully, the professors watched these bits of information coalesce in Umbridge's mind.

"Would the examiners have to be informed if the Heads of Houses completed the bewitchments?" Dolores queried. _Aha!_ thought Filius. _She is searching for a way to avoid the task. _

"In the interests of fairness, we would be forced to disclose that," said Pomona. Sinister nodded in accordance while Poppy remained silent, intent upon the spectacle before her. Busying herself with a cup of tea, Dolores considered the situation. Eventually, she reached the ugly conclusion that she was compelled to attend to this task personally. If she refused to do it, she would appear inept and it might have a negative effect on the outcome of the examinations.

"I will attend to it, myself, of course," she announced. "I would not risk the reputation of the school. As you mentioned Professor Sprout, students are apt to try to take the easy way out every time."

"The parchment is located in the unused classroom on the second floor. You should start the bewitching right now. The examiners require a sample of the parchments for each separate subject exam in advance. These are normally sent out before the Easter holidays. You should also note that regulations require that you enspell no more than four rolls of parchment at a time, to guarantee effectiveness. The sooner you begin, the better," said Filius. _Success, sweet success. Hook, line and sinker Dolores._ Barely disguising his delight, Filius didn't dare look at Pomona. Laughter was threatening to bubble forth.

"Excuse me." In a flurry of pink, Umbridge lurched up from her seat and hustled towards the staff exit. Concentrating on remembering the Anti-Cheating Spell, a spell with the same level of difficulty as the Summoning Spell, Umbridge failed to notice the crack in the flagstones. Most professors automatically avoided or stepped over this crack as they entered or left the Great Hall through that particular door. _One, two, three,_ thought Filius, _and there she goes!_

The Headmistress tripped and fell, landing with a resounding thump on her behind. Quick as lightening, the professors redirected their gazes towards each other, chattering about the weather. Satisfied that her mishap had gone unnoticed, Dolores hefted herself off the floor and stalked out.

The slam of the door triggered the release of the floodgates. Resting her head on the tabletop, Pomona's shoulders shook with the force of her laughter. Poppy chortled happily. In any other case, she would have been demanding to check the hapless soul for bruises. In Dolores' case, Poppy cheerfully abandoned her normal response in favor of merriment. Filius' laughter chimed in with enthusiasm while Aurora's laugher fluctuated between snickering and outright hooting. The handful of students left in the hall, as many of them had evacuated the hall when Umbridge entered, stared up at the staff table, completely befuddled. The professors ignored the gawping, if they noticed it at all.

"That was bloody brilliant, if you don't mind me saying so," gasped Aurora, tears sliding down her checks. "All that nonsense about the exam parchments, Dolores is going to spend hours spelling those things."

"I thought that Dumbledore only had to cast the spell once over the entire shipment," questioned Poppy, regaining control of herself slightly. "And since when would Griselda Marchbanks demand exemplars of _Dumbledore's_ work?"

"You know that Poppy. I know that. Filius knows that. Every teacher in the school knows that," answered Pomona between deep gulps of air. "Dolores does not."

"Who came up with that idea?" asked Aurora.

"It was my idea, but Pomona was an invaluable help," replied Filius. "And now our dear Headmistress will be spending the entire afternoon among dusty parchments. I may have replaced the parchment Minerva ordered fresh this year with the emergency supply which has not been touched in over a decade. I might have also enchanted the parchment to replicate itself if needed in order to keep her busy until supper." _Assuming that Dolores can actually manage to cast a proper spell. Luckily, she won't dare try to consult any of us. If she did, she would have to admit to being the lesser witch._

"I'm so impressed I can't find the words," Aurora gushed, "just brilliant, bloody brilliant."

Filius accepted her compliments with a wave of his hand. Then he raised his eyes towards the ceiling in anticipation. Swooping down from his hiding place in the rafters, Glaucus landed neatly in front of Filius. The owl cocked his head to the side.

"It's done," Filius informed the bird. "I'll write Minerva a note." After locating parchment and a quill in one of his pockets, Filius scribbled "All Clear" and rolled the note up. He tied the scroll to Glaucus' leg. In an unusually affectionate gesture, the owl nudged Filius' hand before sweeping open his wings and launching himself into the air. As Glaucus gracefully soared out of the Great Hall, Filius wondered what exactly Minerva was plotting. _Good luck, dear friend. Remember that all of us will help you however we can. Be careful. We cannot afford to lose you. _


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: While the restaurant itself is fictional, I used the actual menus from other similar restaurants in Edinburgh to create the menu for Thistle and Heather. I also tried to portray Edinburgh as accurately as possible. I apologize for any mistakes I made. For anyone interested in a picture, I based Jonathan Ashford partly off the character Jack McCoy in Law and Order. Once again, thank you to my reviewers.

Chapter 6:

Minerva scrutinized her appearance in the mirror. Although most witches and wizards never learned how to properly blend in the Muggle world, Minerva considered the skill essential. Pretending that the two worlds only touched each other in specific places was pure foolishness. If one world prospered, the other prospered as well. If one world suffered, that suffering inevitably crossed the invisible lines which usually separated the Wizarding population from the Muggles. Quite apart from that, Minerva believed that the Wizarding world could stand to learn lessons from the Muggle world. Innovation, hard work, tolerance, to name a few. Over the course of her life, Minerva had often needed to bridge both worlds. When she became Head of Gryffindor, Albus had requested that she act as a liaison between the parents of Muggle-borns and Hogwarts. Based on her own experiences traversing both worlds, she tried to make the transition easier on all concerned. Dressing and acting as a normal Muggle helped her to gain trust and credibility.

The outfit she had chosen today consisted of a simple black pantsuit with an emerald silk blouse. With the addition of a handbag and sensible black boots, she could pass easily as a Muggle businesswoman. Unlike a Muggle however, the right jacket sleeve contained a hidden sheath for her wand. Securing the clasp of the necklace, Minerva touched the crystal teardrop l pendant. It pulsed warmly beneath her fingertips. Enchanted to maintain her connection to the wards over distances, the pendant would burn if a threat was detected within Hogwarts. Moreover, the pendant could act as Portkey directly to the Headmaster's office upon command. It had taken Albus and her almost two years to charm the wards to allow for this touchstone, but they had deemed it a necessary precaution if both of them had to be away from the castle during perilous times. Attuned to her personal magical signature, the pendant lay dormant unless needed, a mere ornament. Minerva perched on the edge of her chair to pull a pair of low-heeled boots. Standing up, she regarded her image one last time. _The students would probably not even recognize me._ Her lips quirked upwards as she remembered Harry's reaction to her in a Muggle outfit the past summer. For an instant, he obviously didn't realize who she was. Then his eyes had widened, blinking slowly several times, and his jaw dropped open before Molly had shooed him upstairs. _The students seem to believe that their professors are somehow part of the castle itself and don't exist outside the influence of Hogwarts. It must come as a great shock that we are every bit as human as they are. _

Satisfied with her reflection, Minerva slipped her wand into place. Hopefully, Glaucus would return soon with a note from Filius or Pomona. She currently had thirty minutes to spare, counting the time to reach the Hogwarts' boundaries so that she could apparate. Restless, she double-checked the contents of the briefcase she intended to take. _Files on Umbridge, Fudge, texts of the Educational Decrees, statements from parents, intelligence on Malfoy and other contributors, testimonies from students and professors, Hogwarts rules and procedures…Everything is here. _

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape requests admittance," called her portrait, Queen Maeve, a powerful witch who had trained young witches and wizards in the medieval ages before the Founders established Hogwarts. Her voice easily carried into Minerva's bedroom from her sitting room.

"Let him in please Maeve." Emerging from the bedroom, Minerva greeted Severus as he stepped into the room. "What can I do for you Severus? I don't have much time so try not to ramble."

"Playing dress-up Minerva?" Severus smirked. Minerva deigned to answer verbally, limiting her response to a scorching glare. "I merely came by to drop off the marks for your fifth years." By the time he reached "fifth years," his tone had turned acidic. _What exactly happened between Harry and Severus recently?_ Minerva wondered. Never pleasant towards Potter, Severus had not been amused when Albus informed him that he would be teaching Harry Occlumency. Strangely though, the lessons resulted in a decrease in Severus' habitual griping about the boy. _I had hoped that Severus might have begun to perceive Harry as a completely separate person from James. But, something happened after Albus left…something to cause Severus to reverse that progress. Unfortunately, Severus would be more likely to befriend Lockhart than to divulge what transpired between Harry and him. _Nonetheless, Minerva resolved to give Severus the opportunity to explain as soon as possible. She suspected that he had stopped Harry's lessons and had not informed Dumbledore yet since he had deliberately scheduled himself to supervise detentions to avoid the last Order meeting. Albus would doubtless demand a full explanation which Severus clearly did not want to give.

"Thank you, Severus. I have fifth year Slytherins right over here," said Minerva, moving towards her desk. "Altogether, nothing out of the ordinary to mention. I'm reasonably certain that most of them should be able to pass by on an Acceptable, perhaps higher if they put effort into it. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand," she paused, "will not pass. They simply are not capable of achieving the necessary results." Exchanging papers, she glanced at her Gryffindors' scores. As expected, Hermione Granger topped the list while Neville Longbottom finished last. _Augusta will not be pleased. Neville will probably not receive the necessary O.W.L. to advance in either Potions or Transfiguration. If she continues to push him next year, I'll confront her. She has blinded herself to the merits of her grandson because he fails to fit her preconceived notions._

"If they were not in my house, I would observe that their intelligence level rivals that of the slugs I use in class. However, since they are Slytherins, I will refrain from noticing it." Placing her notes in an inner pocket, Severus strode over to her wall of bookcases. "I assume you have other Bradbury works?"

"Try _Fahrenheit 451_. I found it apocalyptic, dark, and pessimistic. You should enjoy it." Not long after Severus' arrival at the school as a professor, Minerva and he began borrowing books from each other. To their surprise, they shared an interest in Muggle authors. During the winter nights, they often debated interpretations in her quarters. Minerva thought of them as verbal fencing matches. Well aware of the sharpness of her tongue, Minerva rarely permitted herself to engage in bantering with any other person besides Severus who always responded with expert skill. Besides, it was excellent practice for when she used wordplay to outwit or outmaneuver people like Dolores Umbridge. With Severus, she deliberately refrained from exploiting her knowledge of his background and weaknesses to grind an edge sharp enough to draw blood. An unspoken understanding underlay their relationship even when they disagreed vehemently. Mutual respect had no place in her relationship with Dolores and Minerva felt absolutely no guilt about using every weapon at her disposal to discomfort, destabilize, and discredit the Ministry-approved Headmistress. _It's almost too easy to run rings around her intellectually. No challenge at all. If she didn't have Ministry support, I wouldn't consider her worth my notice._ Minerva consulted the clock on her desk. Twenty minutes to go before she would be late. _What are you doing, Pomona? Filius?_

Having found the book, Severus skimmed the first page and decided that it would suffice. He eyed Minerva as she opened the window and began to pace. _Who would she be meeting? Considering the Muggle clothing, I assume it's someone who would feel comfortable in that world. No Muggle would be able to help in the current situation therefore it must be a witch or wizard. Someone powerful enough to pose a threat to Fudge and the Toad if he or she became involved which explains why Minerva would choose to meet them in the Muggle world. _Noticing the increasing quickness of her steps, Severus debated how long the Scot's patience would last. Just as he was about to remark on her characteristically Gryffindor behavior, an owl flew in. Severus immediately recognized Minerva's Glaucus.

"Finally," Minerva murmured as Glaucus swooped in to land on his perch. Wandlessly refilling his water bowl, Minerva then reached to untie the scroll from his leg. "It appears that Filius and Pomona have successfully distracted Dolores for the next few hours. Severus, I will be unavailable for two to three hours. If something serious should happen, help Filius as best you can and call for Fawkes." Minerva didn't mention that she had a method of keeping track of the wards while away from Hogwarts. For safety's sake, Albus and she agreed not to reveal that particular achievement to anyone else. It was by no means foolproof and Minerva could still theoretically be cut off from Hogwarts in a crisis. _It's better than nothing_, she thought, _and I have no choice except to meet him outside of the Ministry's radar. Damn that woman for chasing me out of my own home in order to converse with an old friend. With whom I aim to plot against her, but that is quite beside the point. It's the principle of the matter._

"I understand. It would be pointless to ask where you are going and who you are meeting, I assume?"

"You assume correctly, Severus. I have no objection if you wish to browse my library. I would advise against marking in the margins. You do remember what happened the last time you forgot?" Forty years of teaching experience had one potential benefit: decades of pranks as inspiration for creative paybacks. Severus had found every quill he owned bewitched in some fashion. One slowly shrunk until he couldn't maintain a grip on it while another had grown so large it touched the ceiling. Once he released the quills, they would revert to their regular sizes. One quill caused his words to reverse themselves when Severus finished writing. Another, regardless of what color ink it was dipped in, wrote solely in bright pink interspersed with neon orange and baby blue. The last one wrote perfectly, but had a tendency to sprout legs and walk off or to grow arms and escape the drawer. Naturally, Severus preferred this last quill. He spent two days repeatedly tearing apart his office, quarters, and classroom to locate it.

"I won't harm your precious books," Severus retorted. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving?" Commandeering an armchair, Severus stretched his legs out in front of him. He might as well stay in Minerva's quarters. Headmistress in name, Dolores had not yet dared to invade Minerva's quarters without permission. No one would think to look for him here and he anticipated an afternoon spent undisturbed by pestering students or the Fudge's patsy.

With a casual flick of her wrist, Minerva summoned her briefcase, purse, and a plain gray cloak. Donning the cloak, she shrank the other items to fit inside a pocket. _It wouldn't do to run into a member of the Inquisitorial Squad who would run to tattle on me. Avoiding questions by my own students, that is simply depressing. _

"Maeve, please inform any callers that I am not to be disturbed. Direct them to Professor Flitwick or Sprout if they require immediate attention. I'll see you when I return Severus." Engrossed in his book, Severus barely nodded in acknowledgement. Minerva smiled faintly, waiting for the portrait to swing open completely.

As the portrait swung close behind her Severus called, "Do try not to get yourself into trouble. Dumbledore would blame us for not stopping you and I refuse to deal with that." The portal closed with a soft thud. "Good luck, Professor."

Utilizing the hidden staircases and shortcuts, Minerva reached the Entrance Hall and slipped out into the bright sunshine. The students were too preoccupied with their own activities to notice the Transfiguration Mistress' progress towards the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Once safe in the shadows of the trees, a pop signaled Minerva's transformation. A tabby cat darted out across the lawn heading for the gates. Pushing on the gates with a paw, the tabby nipped through the slender gap which appeared. After rounding the corner in the path, Minerva regained her human form. _Sometimes, a small Animagus shape can be exceedingly useful. _Her cloak became an elegant coat while her briefcase and purse were restored to their proper sizes. For a moment, a resident of Hogsmeade or Hogwarts would have been puzzled to find a Muggle woman on the path between the magical village and school.

In the next instant, the apparition vanished.

* * *

Edinburgh hummed with life around Minerva. Businessmen and women sought out lunch while a few tourists wandered this way and that. Winding her way along the sidewalks, Minerva searched for the restaurant's sign. She had transported into the Princes Street Gardens which contained a sheltered grove specifically used for that purpose. After requesting directions from a friendly vendor, Minerva had found her way to N. Castle Street. The restaurant was supposedly somewhere along this street, but Minerva had yet to spot the sign for Thistle and Heather. _Why did he have to pick someplace practically Unplottable to meet?_ _Wait a minute…Finally!_ Unadorned except for a grouping of thistle and heather, the sign hung over a modest doorway. Minerva opened the door and found herself immediately asked to climb a flight of stairs. Mounting the stairs, Minerva came into an oak paneled hallway whose end was obscured by a red velvet curtain. When she approached it, a gloved hand drew the curtain aside.

"Welcome to the Thistle and Heather madam," intoned the maitre d' as she entered the restaurant. Exquisite scents of spices and fresh baked bread drifted through the air. Sheer curtains allowed the sunlight to grace the tables, but preserved an air of privacy. On every table, an arrangement of thistles and heather added a splash of color against the pristine white tablecloths and crystal glasses. Menu in hand, the maitre d' inquired, "Would you prefer a table near the window or one of the booths? For one or perhaps more?"

"I am meeting –" Before she could finish, a distinguished gentleman had risen from one of the booths and made his way over to her. "That would be my companion now, thank you."

"Mr. Ashford," the maitre d' exclaimed, "I did not realize that you were waiting for someone."

"I was unsure of it myself. Ms. McGonagall's presence was contingent upon several factors," replied the gentleman. Guiding Minerva to his booth, he added, "I was beginning to think that you were unable to escape from the school."

"I enlisted some of my colleagues to help provide a distraction. I must admit, this is a pleasant change from the Great Hall. How did you find this restaurant Jonathan?" Jonathan waited until Minerva had taken her seat before sitting down.

"A few years ago, the owners had a bit of trouble with a Wizarding tourist couple. I helped straightened the whole matter out and in return, they offered me a dinner on the house. I just kept coming back after that. Mr. Conway," he said, indicating the maitre d', "jokes that he should just reserve a table for me on a daily basis. I hope you didn't have trouble finding the place."

"Only a little. You have always had good taste. I must remember to ask if it would be possible to take a dessert with me."_ I owe Filius and Pomona for today and the rest of the staff, bar Dolores naturally, deserve a treat. _

Seeing a waiter approach, Jonathan asked, "Would you like to share a pot of tea? They make their own special blend." Minerva nodded and Jonathan placed their drink order with the waiter.

"How long has it been since I last saw you?"

"Almost a year. With everything that has happened, I haven't had the time for old friends and casual conversation," Minerva replied. "You look well. I heard that the Swiss Ministry awarded you a commendation for your recent work. Congratulations."

"Thank you, although the honor truly belongs to the entire team." Amused by his humility and embarrassment at being recognized, Minerva considered the man before her. Slightly younger than herself, Jonathan Cameron Ashford was widely considered one of the preeminent advocates in the Wizarding European community. He worked on cases for the International Magical Office of Law in addition to functioning as the intermediary between the Muggle and wizard legal systems when the occasion required it. In his spare time, he preferred to volunteer his expetise towards human rights issues. His recent work involved the treatment of werewolves, Veela, and other so-called part-humans. On the courtroom floor, his voice resonated in the listeners' minds long after he stopped speaking while his tall frame, salt-and-pepper hair, and deep brown eyes commanded their attention and respect. Brilliant and tenacious, Jonathan rarely lost a battle and would never back down when he believed in the righteousness of his cause. _In other words, the perfect choice for this task,_ thought Minerva.

"You should like this blend," said Jonathan, restoring Minerva's mind to the present. A delicate aroma wafted from the teapot being carried by the returning waiter. Judging by the fragrances, Minerva guessed that the tea contained vanilla and almond among other flavors. After the waiter poured for them, he set the teapot on the table.

"Would you like to hear today's menu?" he asked.

"What has Charlie dreamed up today?" countered Jonathan, adding in an aside to Minerva, "Charlie is the cook and changes the menu daily."

"Our lunch entrees include smoked salmon on a bed of greens, baked sea trout fillets with sautéed scallops, and a lovely piece of prime rib served with roasted potatoes. On the side, you have a choice of black pudding, cauliflower and sorrel soup, or an apricot salad with the house dressing," offered the waiter. "Would you like a few moments to decide?"

"I'm ready now, Minerva?"

"I would like the apricot salad and the baked sea trout please."

"And I will have the soup and prime rib. Tell Charlie I said hello for me."

"Very good, sir. I'll pass the message along." The waiter promptly disappeared in direction of the kitchen. Jonathan returned his focus to his dining companion. When he had received her request to rendezvous for lunch, his interest had been immediately peaked. The restaurant choice had been ceded to him, but she had specified a Muggle restaurant well away from any magical venue._ Why would she insist on that? What could she want to discuss that could not be said in Diagon Alley?_ _Time to stop beating around the bush_, he decided.

"Why did you ask me here, Minerva?" He leaned forward as Minerva took a sip, considering her answer.

"I need your help, Jonathan. I trust that you have kept abreast of the developments at Hogwarts and within the Ministry?"

"You mean Fudge's blatant abuse of his power? The stories in the _Prophet_ about Dumbledore and Harry Potter? Dumbledore's removal from the Wizengamot and Hogwarts, his supposed treachery against the Ministry?" Scorn and condemnation in every word, Jonathan spat out Fudge's title, "The Minister has overstepped his bounds and needs to be reminded of the limits. No one seems willing to challenge him, especially after he forced Dumbledore from Hogwarts. I have been trying to find a line of attack and supporters, but so far, I've come up with nothing useful."

"What do you know about Dolores Umbridge?" asked Minerva, quietly reassured by Jonathan's fervent reply. _He is practically begging for a chance to be the one to put Fudge in his place._

"Umbridge?" he said with all the disgust normally reserved for slugs, cockroaches, and rats. "Prejudiced, power-loving, vile, sycophantic, poor excuse for a human being. In short, foul. She was responsible for that piece of werewolf registration you know. I heard that she was involved with Hogwarts. The _Prophet_ reported that Fudge decreed her Headmistress, but I never believe that trash anymore without independent confirmation."

"You have your confirmation then. That woman is now in charge of _my _school." Clenching her hands around her cup until they hurt, Minerva attempted to keep her tone reasonable. It was a losing battle. "That damned woman has control of Hogwarts. Do you know what she has done, Jonathan? Her own version of the Gestapo prowling the halls, bullying the students! She's used Veritaserum on students and shaken one of them when she didn't receive a reply she liked! And instead of polishing the trophy cases or preparing potion ingredients, she makes the students write lines with a Blood Quill! She won't be satisfied with that however. Apparently, she is pushing through an approval for even more extreme physical punishments!" Word by word, Minerva's voice rose in volume. Shaking, she drew in a breath. _Shouting will do absolutely no good. Get yourself under control!_ She closed her eyes and reopened them slowly. She spoke again, freezing every syllable to absolute zero. "I have watched while my students went untaught, while she called them liars, while she insulted and ousted my friend, while she made the students write in their own blood, while she turned Hogwarts, a place of safety even in the middle of the last war, into her own private fascist state. I could do nothing without jeopardizing the students' protection against outside threats. Now, the students are no safer inside Hogwarts' walls then outside them. I refused to stand by and let Dolores rule as a tyrant."

"What do you intend to do then? And how do I fit in?" demanded Jonathan through gritted teeth. _I had no idea that things had gotten this bad. Blood quills on children! On a Ministry official's orders no less!_ "Whatever you want me to do Minerva, I'll do it."

"Dolores must be planning to get rid of me next. I'm too much of a threat to her and she knows that I will never accept her authority. I'll constantly undermine her in any way I can. The other professors follow my lead and would not contemplate recognizing anyone else as Head besides Dumbledore and me. I have the respect and trust of the most of the students and parents. Dolores can barely cast a _Lumos_ spell while the entire academic community respects my abilities and expertise. She needs to eliminate me in order to cement her control over Hogwarts. Like Dumbledore, she and Fudge will try to paint me as a traitor to the Ministry. They probably believe that they can get away with it because of my connection to Dumbledore, their successful brainwashing of the Wizarding public, and their Ministerial power. I don't intend to be unprepared when that day comes. I hope to use their accusation for my own purpose, to strip off their masks and reveal them to the world for the despicable people they are. That is where I need your assistance. We must act within the law, not outside of it. We must prove our case in open court to convince the public and to provide legal justification to expel Fudge and Umbridge from power." Piercing steel-gray eyes locked with Jonathan's brown ones. "I want you to be my advocate. Only the best will serve, and you are the best."

Withdrawing her gaze, Minerva refilled her cup, adding a spoonful of sugar. The tiny clink of the spoon against the cup sounded loud in Jonathan's ears. Despite his earlier tirade, he had not thought about this possibility. _If I do this and lose, I will be destroyed. _He glanced at Minerva's visage, now composed, but defiant and determined. _She must know that the deck is stacked in favor of Fudge and Umbridge. If Dumbledore, hero that he is, didn't dare to risk a challenge in court, what makes her think that she will succeed? What about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? _A shudder ran through him at this thought. He had learned of You-Know-Who's return through Minerva, but had tried to push it from his mind. _Just like the rest of the population, too scared of the possibility of another war. Scared enough to enable Fudge and Dolores to use the public's willful ignorance to their advantage. _

Suddenly, an arm appeared in his field of vision. Jonathan startled as the waiter apologized for surprising him. Thanking the waiter, Minerva delicately tasted a piece of her fish. The house-elves prepared wonderful meals, but they were generally geared towards a student population with diverse preferences. Jonathan obviously needed a few moments to think over her proposal.

"You should not let your prime rib get cold, Jonathan. We can postpone the rest of this conversation until we finish our meal," suggested Minerva.

"I would like that," said Jonathan. As they cleaned their plates, Jonathan directed their talk to mundane subjects such as the weather, the city of Edinburgh which Jonathan called home, and Quidditch.

"Would you care for dessert?" asked the waiter as he removed their plates. "I can offer you a selection of cheeses with our homemade fruit and nut bread or a pear and apple crumble."

"The crumble sounds perfect. Thank you," responded Minerva, noticing that Jonathan was still preoccupied with her proposition. In moments, slices of crumble materialized in front of them, warm from the ovens and dusted with brown sugar. The tart sweetness roused Jonathan from his thoughts. Abruptly, the storm clouds of indecision and misgiving cleared. _Why am I hesitating? I have two choices: take a stand and risk everything or shut up and watch as the ideals I swore to uphold are destroyed._

"I'll do it," he announced. Once verbalized, a peculiar sense of relief washed over him. _Win or lose, I'll at least retain my honor. Hell, I'll go down in history either way._

"Thank you, Jonathan, although that seems woefully inadequate." _Thank Merlin. Now, I might have a chance of winning. _The tightness in her spine and shoulders unwound while the uneasiness from fear, anxiety, and apprehension, lightened for the first time in weeks. A full smile unfurled itself as the lines of stress smoothed themselves away.

"Until she actually accuses you, I don't think we can do much legally. However, we can begin building a case so that we are prepared. No sense in waiting." His commitment given, Jonathan immediately started formulating their strategy.

"I've already set a couple of things in motion and I brought a number of documents for you to review," said Minerva, handing him the briefcase which had been resting at her feet. "Certain friends within the Ministry helped gather intelligence on Cornelius, Dolores, and their associates. Additionally, I've requested my colleagues to make a record of Dolores' activities at Hogwarts."

"I'll look through this later. The record should be useful to prove a pattern of behavior. If we can prove that she poses a significant threat to the students' wellbeing and that Fudge was aware of this, we can accuse both of them. In regards to their probable accusation of treason against you, we must demonstrate that you never meant to challenge the government itself, only the current administration. If the current administration committed serious crimes, such as child abuse, then your opposition is more than warranted. Do you know exactly what actions they will use to claim treason?"

"I believe that Dolores is waiting for me to lose my temper and say or do something which might be construed as treason. At present, I have done very little which could support such a charge even in their wildest imaginations. I would never conduct myself with anything less than the highest respect for the law and patriotism for my country. They will be forced to twist my words or actions to booster their cause."

"No sensible person would ever accuse you of being disloyal Minerva. And treason is difficult to prove _with_ solid evidence and collaboration which they certainly will not have. Fudge should be grateful that Dumbledore didn't stick around for a trial. I doubt that, even considering his recent unpopularity, the Wizengamot could have been convinced to convict him. Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic, but they will certainly be reluctant to return a guilty verdict against you." Jonathan gestured with his fork as he spoke. "Not to mention that we are going to remind them of your dedicated service to the education of their children and grandchildren for the past forty years. I'm sure that they will find it hard to crucify a simple teacher trying to protect her students."

"Very well, Jonathan, but I want to use the court to force Fudge and Umbridge's actions into the public view. The trial will provide a public forum in which to disclose the truth to the Wizarding world. I expect that they will try to offer me a way out, provided that I go quietly. Needless to say, I will refuse. When that tactic fails and they realize that they will have to follow the full legal procedures, they will attempt to restrict access to the proceedings and censor any news printed in the _Prophet_. Somehow, they cannot be allowed to accomplish this. Otherwise, we may as well abandon the plan now." Tapping his fork against the tablecloth, Jonathan contemplated a solution to this potential roadblock. Suddenly, he lit upon an idea.

"You have a dual citizenship in France, don't you?" Minerva's eyebrow rose as she nodded, wondering why Jonathan would ask that question. "And you are good friends with high-ranking members of the French Ministry?"

"I have been friends with Minister Chevalier and her husband, Healer Chevalier, of the National Hospital of France, for decades. I'm acquainted of course with Madame Maxime as well as other academics in the country. In the Ministry, I am on friendly terms with the Minister of International Relations, the Deputy Minister, and the Minister himself. May I ask why that matters?" probed Minerva.

"Imagine how incensed the French Ministry would become if Fudge mistreated one of its citizens. If I were to inform them of what was taking place, Fudge would have to allow them access in order to maintain diplomatic relations. Moreover, this gives us leverage to bring in representation from International Wizarding Magical Law office. The entire trial would have to be conducted openly and according to the proper procedures." A wolfish smile firmly in place, he said, "I'm starting to believe we might have a decent shot at winning this."

"Jon!" Minerva and Jonathan whipped their heads around as a man, obviously the chef, strode towards them. Ruddy-checked and somewhat thickset, his wide grin caused his eyes to crinkle. "I haven't seen you in two days. I was afraid you might have dropped off the face of the earth. Or I thought you might have found another favorite chef. And who is the gorgeous lady?" Instead of shaking her proffered hand, he bowed and kissed it.

"Charlie, this is Minerva McGonagall. Minerva, Charlie Kennard is responsible for keeping me from starving."

"Mr. Kennard, thank you for a wonderful meal and for ensuring that Jonathan does not expire from hunger," said Minerva.

"My pleasure, particularly when he brings a beautiful woman into my restaurant. And please, call me Charlie," Charlie said, beaming at her. A faint blush pinked Minerva's cheeks.

"Chef?" Peeping out through the kitchen, a young man frantically looked around for Charlie. "Chef?"

"I'll be there in a minute, try not to burn down the restaurant in the meantime Jeff," called Charlie. "My apologies, it seems my assistant demands my presence in the kitchen. It was wonderful to meet you, Ms. McGonagall, and I hope you come back soon. If there is anything else you need…"

"Actually Charlie, I believe Minerva mentioned taking one of your desserts back to her coworkers at her school. Perhaps the crumble?"

"No problem, I'll have one wrapped up and sent over. Now, I must go before the vegetables attack Jeffrey."

"Thank you, Charlie. I'm sure my colleagues will enjoy your dessert as much as I did." Accepting the compliment with a smile and wave, Charlie hustled back towards the kitchen. Before long, a cloth-wrapped parcel, cleverly tied to create a handle, arrived on their table. Furthermore, the waiter informed them that the check had been shredded per the cook's order. Together, Minerva and Jonathan rose, sent their goodbyes to Charlie via the waiter, and departed the restaurant. Over the walk to the Princes Street Gardens, Minerva regaled Jonathan with tales of her students, narrating the Weasley twins' strikes against Dolores.

"By the end of the day, she looked as if she had been attacked by a rampaging herd of hippogriffs. Soot and burns covered that awful pink cardigan of hers. I must say that the fireworks compensated for much of the trouble those two have caused me over the years." They stepped into the apparition grove. "I'll send Glaucus along with updates as I can. Most of the mail entering or exiting the school is searched, but Glaucus can usually manage to avoid it. I may take the precaution of Disillusioning him in any case. If you need to communicate a message immediately, send a Patronus. I assume you remember how?"

"I should hope so. It saved my life during the last war. I'll begin preliminary work on this, but I will wait until I hear from you to move forward." Catching her gaze, he said seriously, "Be careful, Minerva. Goodbye and good luck."

"I can take care of myself, but I will be, as Alastor says, vigilant. Goodbye Jonathan." With the merest hint of a twist, Minerva stepped forward and disapparated. For a moment, Jonathan stared at the empty space she left behind. _Give them hell, Minerva. When you need me, I'll be ready._

* * *

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione Granger's voice reached Minerva's ears as she stepped off the staircase onto the seventh floor. Book bag slung over one shoulder, Ms. Granger sometimes reminded Minerva rather forcefully of herself as a student. _Talented and determined, but fiercely loyal to her friends. Too serious and perfectionist at times. _

"What can I do for you, Ms. Granger?"

"Judy Hawkins came to me crying, Professor. Apparently, Umbridge made a comment about the superiority of pure-bloods to Muggle-borns," reported Hermione, her tone as hard as Rubeus' rockcakes. "I managed to calm her down, but I thought you should know."

With the suddenness of a candle blowing out, Minerva's relative good mood, produced by her jaunt outside the castle, evaporated. _Blasted, prejudiced woman. For any other professor, I would correct Ms. Granger and demand that she or he be called by their title. Dolores doesn't deserve that honor._ Lips thinned, she responded to her fifth year prefect's statement. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I'll see if I can't speak with Ms. Hawkins personally tomorrow. Was that all, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, Professor. I was actually on my way to the library."

"While I applaud your dedication to your studies, Ms. Granger, I would recommend that you try to get outside and enjoy the weather at some point over the holiday," encouraged Minerva.

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor. Have a nice day," Hermione said as she began descending the stairs. Concentrated on Dolores' latest victim, Minerva's feet traced the route to her quarters mechanically. After muttering the password to Maeve without recognition, she found herself back in her quarters.

"Based on the furrows in your brow, I presume your meeting went poorly," stated Severus who had not budged from the armchair.

"The meeting itself went well. However, Ms. Granger just informed me of Dolores' verbal abuse of another student." Minerva set the crumble on her desk. "Even when not immediately present, that woman has the infuriating ability to ruin my day. I hope that whatever Filius and Pomona contrived to preoccupy her was…inventive." Unfastening her cloak, Minerva banished it and her purse into her bedroom. _Should I change? No, why should I care? It is a holiday._

"That woman should be classified as a contagious disease. She lingers in the air, sickening anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity," remarked Severus, his lip curled in his trademark sneer. "What a pity that we cannot treat her as such. A vigorous Scouring spell would not go amiss." _Repeated dunking in lake has a certain appeal, preferably while the water is still freezing cold,_ thought Minerva, seating herself at her desk. _Of course, a combination of the two would guarantee effectiveness. _She let her imagination run free for a few minutes before directing her thoughts towards the omnipresent paperwork.

Having returned to his book, Severus kept Minerva company throughout the remainder of the afternoon while she tackled the end of year reports. Occasionally, the witch would pose a question and Severus would briefly resurface to answer her. When the bell sounded, Minerva threw on a robe over her Muggle clothing and the two went down to supper. Dolores appeared, sneezing and coated in dust, midway through the meal. Noticing her colleagues' reactions, Minerva suspected that this had something to do with Filius' and Pomona's scheming. However, she resigned herself to waiting until the war conference she had convened for later that evening. She couldn't inquire during the meal. _Considering those self-satisfied smirks, their ploy worked brilliantly. I shall greatly enjoy hearing about your discomfort, Dolores. _


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I had hoped to have this up yesterday, but alas real life did not allow for it. I will try to update once a week. Thank you to my faithful reviewers; you truly make my day. This chapter was particularly tricky to write because I knew that I could not compete with Rowling's work. Therefore I did not try to rewrite her original text. I merely tried to add another dimension to it.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 7:

"Hem, hem." _I will not curse Dolores. I will not turn her into the rest of the way into a toad. I will not cause those ridiculous lilac robes to strangle her._ Minerva prayed for patience and control as she revolved to face the perpetrator. _After she left the table at breakfast, I had to listen to Pomona explain in detail exactly how those printed flowers were wrong._ One of Pomona Sprout's pet peeves happened to be the misrepresentation of flowers in various mediums. Dolores' robes had sparked a solid thirty minutes of critique. Then Aurora and Charity insisted upon recounting the fashion mishaps of Dolores and comparing them to Lockheart's. _One would think that they have nothing of more consequence to be talking about. At least it was moderately amusing._

"Dolores, perhaps you should see Madame Pomfrey about that cough."

"Cough? I'm in perfect health Minerva, you needn't worry about being left to handle the school by yourself," simpered Dolores. _Perfect health? You can barely huff and puff your way to the seventh floor_. _Of course, I specifically barred the staff from showing you our shortcuts and secret passageways._ Considering the extent of Hogwarts, it was essential that the professors be able to move about the school rapidly in order to respond to any situation. In addition to the student-accessible ones, the professors utilized several other useful hidden staircases and corridors to shorten travel time. Minerva had taken a vindictive pleasure in forcing Dolores to take the longer route via the normal hallways and staircases throughout the year. _Unfortunately, it seems that the exercise has failed to induce any improvement. If this were not a magical school, the students could simply prank her and run. Merlin knows, you could never hope to catch them Dolores. _

Desiring to get out of the woman's presence, Minerva curtly demanded, "What do you need to speak to me about Dolores?" as she looked down at the Headmistress. Dolores sucked in air, pulled herself as straight as possible, and peered up at the Gryffindor Head.

"I understand the Mr. Potter will be having his career advising session in the coming week with you. When is his appointment?" Suspicious, Minerva answered with a question.

"May I ask how that concerns you?"

"As Headmistress, the future of every student is of grave importance to me. Surely, you know that Minerva. I am particularly disturbed by the direction in which Mr. Potter's life seems to be heading. I wish to make certain facts clear to him about his behavior and its effects on his choice of vocation." Dolores' smile twisted, "I will therefore be overseeing his session."

"That is unnecessary, Dolores." Fastening her fiercest glare on Dolores, Minerva was gratified when the other witch stepped backwards before replying.

"I'm afraid I see things differently, Minerva. When is he scheduled to meet with you?" Exasperated, Minerva considered telling Dolores the wrong time and, when she showed up, pretending that it had all been a mistake. _Knowing Dolores, she would probably find a way to take it out on Harry._

"Two-thirty tomorrow." Sidestepping Dolores, Minerva paid no attention to Dolores' response as she continued towards her office. _Wonderful, now I have __**that **__to look forward to on Monday. _Before she entered her office, however, Minerva schooled any trace of irritation from her face. Earlier that day, she had spoken with Judy Hawkins and asked her to stop by her office sometime during the afternoon.

Opening the door, Minerva noticed the first year anxiously playing with a loose thread along the hem of her sleeve. Dark blonde hair kept falling in front of her hazel eyes as her legs swung slightly, not quite reaching the floor. Quiet, but friendly, the young girl had been overjoyed to attend Hogwarts when Minerva contacted her and her parents the past summer. Arriving with an easy smile and cheerful attitude, Ms. Hawkins' spirits had suffered from Umbridge's regime.

"Hello, Professor," Judy said as Minerva sat down behind her desk. "Am I in trouble?" She lifted her eyes, searching her Head of House's expression for signs of anger.

"No, Ms. Hawkins. Would you care for a biscuit?" A little bewildered, Judy selected a biscuit from the tin that Minerva presented.

"Thank you, Professor," she murmured, nibbling on the treat. For a moment, Minerva hesitated, choosing her next words carefully.

"Ms. Granger told me that you had an altercation with the Headmistress yesterday. I understand that she made several comments about Muggle-borns." Keeping her head bowed, Judy nodded. "Would you like to tell me exactly what happened?"

Judy whispered, "Professor Flitwick let Euan and me practice in his classroom. Professor Umbridge came in. She said that Muggle-borns could never really belong in the Wizarding world. She said that it would be better if we didn't even try to fit in." Her voice trailed off, the last syllables almost lost.

"Was there anything else?" Minerva prompted gently.

"She said that Muggle-borns would never be as good witches and wizards as pure-bloods. She said Muggle-borns could not be expected to achieve anything." Eyes glistening with tears, Judy clutched her biscuit in one hand as she fell silent. Minerva rose from her seat and came around to the other side of the desk. Taking the chair next Judy, she reached out and lifted the first year's chin until Judy met her gaze.

"Do you believe what the Headmistress told you, Ms. Hawkins?"

"I don't know Professor. I mean, everyone says that she is wrong about everything, but…" With a shrug of her shoulders, Judy dropped her eyes back to her lap. At her sniff, Minerva placed a handkerchief in her free hand, receiving a faint "thank you."

_Dolores, I swear that if it is the absolute last thing I do I will make you regret setting foot in this school and every unkind word and deed which you have committed since then._ Setting aside the burning rush of anger for later, Minerva concentrated on her student. "Ms. Hawkins, would you think that I have achieved nothing in my life?"

"No, Professor," came the hushed reply. Judy swiped her cheeks with the handkerchief to catch a few tears that had escaped.

"Would you say that I do not have a place in the Wizarding world?"

"No, Professor," said Judy, shaking her head.

"And out of the two of us, which one is more competent, the Headmistress or me?"

"You, Professor." Finally, Judy met her eyes again, handkerchief crumpled in her hand.

"If what I just said is true, Ms. Hawkins, then Headmistress must be wrong," declared Minerva.

"I don't understand, Professor."

"I'm Muggle-born too, Ms. Hawkins," Minerva explained. Judy stared at her in surprise. "If everything that Professor Umbridge said about Muggle-borns were true, I would not be where I am today. Dolores Umbridge's prejudice against Muggle-borns is baseless. Although there are those within the Wizarding community who assert the superiority of pure-bloods, they are either exceedingly ignorant or bigoted. In the future, I recommend not paying any attention to such remarks."

"I'll try to remember that Professor." Drying the final tears, Judy folded the handkerchief and placed it on the desk. "I know Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, but everything is so new and different. Sometimes, I don't know what Euan and the others are talking about." She paused before adding, "My mother always told me that no one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

"Courage takes many forms, Ms. Hawkins, and does not mean that you do not have doubts or fears. Regardless of whatever anyone might suggest to the contrary, you do belong here Ms. Hawkins." Removing herself to behind the desk again, Minerva gave Judy a small smile "Do not allow anyone to persuade you otherwise."

"I won't, Professor," vowed Judy as she stood up. "Thank you." Halfway out the door, she turned around. "May I have another biscuit?"

At Minerva's nod, she retrieved one from the tin. "Professor, what type of biscuit is this?

"Cinnamon Apple," said Minerva.

"They're very good. Have a good afternoon, Professor." Watching Judy leave her office with her head held high, Minerva deducted a point from Dolores' side on her mental scoreboard. _Despite your best efforts Dolores, you will not win. _Minerva wondered if Dolores knew that she was not a pure-blood witch. _Considering her opinions on the subject, she might have bothered to check. _Most people had forgotten or overlooked this particular piece of information about Minerva McGonagall. The only time in recent memory that anyone had brought it up was during Harry's second year. _"Minerva, please be careful, my dear. A Muggle-born Head of Gryffindor would be a tempting target for the heir of Slytherin. Promise me that you won't take any chances," Albus had implored her as he prepared to leave Hogwarts at the command of the Board of Governors. "I know that you will take excellent care of the school, but I need you to be safe too. Promise me."_ In time, and with Ginny Weasley's life hanging in the balance, the governors had raced to reverse their decision made under pressure from Lucius Malfoy. Doubtless as soon as Tom Riddle revealed himself, the Wizarding community would rush to vindicate Albus and abandon Fudge. _In the meantime, they have given Cornelius free rein and placed the safety of everyone at great risk._

* * *

[Author's Note: **Bold** text is taken directly from Order of the Phoenix pg.661-666, American edition.]

Acting as nonchalant as possible, Minerva glanced at her desk clock: 2:33 p.m. Potter was late. In her corner, Dolores gave a little sound of satisfaction before speaking.

"It appears that Mr. Potter, in addition to his other faults, does not consider punctuality a virtue. What a pity. I can't imagine that most potential employers would consider hiring someone who pays no attention to the clock," gloated Dolores, making a notation on her clipboard.

"Did it occur to you, Dolores, that perhaps Mr. Potter's class merely ran over?" _Which might actually be true considering that the class would have been Potions_, thought Minerva. Quick steps sounded outside her office and then Potter burst through the door.

**"Sorry, Professor," he panted, as he closed the door. "I forgot…"**

**"No matter, Potter," she said briskly**, relieved at his appearance.** As she spoke, somebody else sniffed from the corner. Harry looked around.** _Really Dolores, I suggest you find a more dignified way to announce your presence. Otherwise, people will assume you have allergies or a cold._

**Professor Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on her knee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck, and a small, horribly smug smile on her face.**

**"Sit down, Potter," said Professor McGonagall tersely.** She located a few potential useful pamphlets from within the pile, noticing the slight shaking of her hands. _You will not lose your temper. Just ignore the toad in the corner. _

**"Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years," said Professor McGonagall. "Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?**"

**"Er," said Harry. **His head twisted slightly in the direction of Umbridge. _I quite agree, Potter. Her scratching is extremely irritating. _Minerva suddenly wondered if Dolores took actual notes at all considering the amount of scribbling taking place before the discussion even began. _I would not be surprised to find her page covered with "Dolores Umbridge, Headmistress of Hogwarts" and nothing else. _

**"Yes?"** **Professor McGonagall prompted Harry. **_If he says anything other than an Auror, I will be very surprised. Fortunately, he is not unsuitable for that career choice._

**"Well, I thought of, maybe, being an Auror," Harry mumbled. **_As expected. Dear me, Dolores does not look pleased. _Sitting up straight up, Dolores' eyes burned a hole in the back of Potter's chair. Dolores deliberately tried to catch Minerva's attention, but Minerva pretended not to notice.

**"You'd need top grades for that, said Professor McGonagall.** Although she knew the requirements by heart after many years of counseling students, she dug out the pamphlet in order to confirm that the standards had not been changed recently. _I would not put in past Fudge to rewrite Auror acceptance standards._ A rapid scan assured her that nothing had been altered. **"They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It's a difficult career path, Potter; they take only the best. In fact, I don't think anybody has been taken on in the last three years."** _I believe Nymphadora Tonks was the last candidate accepted. _

_Was that a cough, Dolores? You will have to try harder._

**"You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?"** she continued, raising her voice slightly in an attempt to mask any other interruptions.

**"Yes," said Harry. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, I suppose?"**

**"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "I would also advise –"**

"Ahem," came from the corner. _Merlin, give me patience. _Closing her eyes, Minerva recited the principles of Animagus transformation to herself before daring to continue.

**"I would advise Transfiguration, because Aurors frequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in their work. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do not accept students in my N.E.W.T. classes unless they have achieved 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher at Ordinary Wizarding Level. I'd say you are averaging "Acceptable' at the moment, so you'll need to put in some good hard work before the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions."** Amused, Minerva watched Potter's face pale faintly. _He probably thought that he could drop Potions after fifth year. _**"Yes, Potter, Potions," she added with the merest flicker of a smile. "Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than 'Outstanding' in their O.W.L.s, so –"**

**Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced cough yet.**

**"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?"** Minerva refrained from looking at Dolores. There was no need to grant her any attention.

**"Oh no, thank you very much," said Umbridge, with that simpering laughwhich always set Minerva's teeth on edge. "I just wondered whether I could make the teeniest interruption, Minerva?"**

**"I daresay you'll find you can,"** **said Professor McGonagall through tightly gritted teeth**_, since I am restraining myself from removing your vocal cords. _

**"I was just wondering whether Mr. Potter has **_**quite**_** the temperament for an Auror?" said Professor Umbridge sweetly. **_As sweet as antifreeze_, though Minerva. _You are in no position to criticize anyone concerning his suitability for a certain occupation. _

**"Were you?"** _Harry is more worthy of becoming an Auror than you are worthy of becoming a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron. _**"Well, Potter, if you are serious in this ambition, I would advise you to concentrate hard on bringing your Transfiguration and Potions up to scratch. I see Professor Flitwick has graded you between 'Acceptable' and 'Exceeds Expectations' for the last two years, so your Charms work seems satisfactory; as for Defense Against the Dark Arts, your marks have been generally high, Professor Lupin in particular thought you –"**

"AHEM!" a violent hack exploded from Umbridge.

**"Are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, Dolores?"** _I happened to mention your coughing to Severus a few weeks ago. He provided me with a roll of drops guaranteed to banish that frog in your throat. Of course, they have one minor side effect: they prevent you from making any sound at all for some time._

**"Oh, no need, thank you Minerva," simpered Professor Umbridge. "I was just concerned that you might not have Harry's most recent Defense Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quite sure I slipped in a note…"**

**"What, this thing?" **Grasping the sheet as if it was contaminated with the plague, Minerva pulled it from the folder. She glanced at the prominent "D" and its accompanying list of complaints, raising her eyebrows at Dolores' ridiculousness. _Dolores, do you honestly believe that this would influence my opinion of Harry's capabilities? The only reason many of your students will be passing their O.W.L.s is that Harry tutored them. You should be thanking him. _Upon replacing the parchment back in Harry's folder, Minerva felt as if she needed to wash her hands. _Pink, for Merlin's sake. _

**"Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought you showed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, and obviously for an Auror –"**

**"Did you not understand my note, Minerva?" asked Professor Umbridge in honeyed tones.** _Did not…Did not understand! I cannot believe my ears._

**"Of course I understood it,"** Minerva forced the words out. Like a rope being slowly, but persistently, sawn with a dull blade, Minerva felt her control begin to slip. _You will not lose your temper in front of Harry. That is hardly the proper example to set,_ she reminded herself.

**"Well, then. I am confused…"** _Really, Dolores? That must be such a novel experience for you._ **"I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that –"**

**"False hope?" repeated Professor McGonagall**, refusing to accord Dolores' statements any credence by looking at her directly. _If the Ministry turns down Harry, provided that he fulfills the requirements, then they are fools. Although, considering the current administration…_** "He has achieved high marks in all his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests –"**

**"I'm terribly sorry to contradict you, Minerva, but as you will see from my note Harry has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me –"**

**"I should have made my meaning plainer," said Professor McGonagall.** _Permit me to set the record straight Dolores._ Directing her steel-gray gaze at Dolores, Minerva wanted to ensure that the Headmistress understood her perfectly. **"He has achieved high marks in al Defense Against the Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher." **Rocking back in her seat, Dolores' eyes bulged as her quill scratched the parchment furiously. Rage tinted her entire visage red. Temporarily satisfied, Minerva returned her attention to its proper recipient.

**"Any questions, Potter?"** she asked, ignoring the frantic scribbling.

**"Yes,' said Harry. "What sort of character and aptitude tests do the Ministry do on you, if you get enough N.E.W.T.s?"**

**"Well, you'll need to demonstrate the ability to react well under pressure and so forth," said Professor McGonagall, "perseverance and dedication, because Auror training takes a further three years, not to mention very high skills in practical defense. It will mean a lot more study even after you've left school, so unless you're prepared to –"**

**"I think you'll also find," **interrupted Umbridge yet again, **"that the Ministry looks into the records of those applying to be Aurors. Their criminal records."** _I wonder, Dolores, have you ever heard of manners? Interrupting is quite rude, especially when you have nothing of relevance to say._

**"– unless you're prepared to take even more exams after Hogwarts, you should really look at another –" **

**"– which means that this boy has as much chance of becoming an Auror as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school."** _You imprudent woman, you truly believe that you have seized enough power to secure your position. Your overconfidence will be your downfall. _

**"A very good chance, then."** Umbridge's face reminded Minerva greatly of a squashed tomato.

**"Potter has a criminal record," said Umbridge loudly. **

**"Potter has been cleared of all charges," **retorted Minerva, finding herself raising her voice. _Considering that you participated in that farce of a hearing, you should be aware of that. Harry had every right to use magic in that situation. Of course, you would probably have cheered the Dementors on. _Realizing that her hand had crept towards her wand, Minerva deliberately laid it flat on the desk. In her mind's eye, the leash on her anger had been reduced to a few fraying strands. _Do not curse the woman, no matter how foul she is. This is not the time or the place. _

When Dolores stood up, Minerva choked back a laugh. The squat Headmistress was hardly any taller standing than when seated. _As for her expression, it might very well scare small children, but it certainly does not intimidate __me__. _**"Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Auror!" **_We will see about that, won't we, Dolores?_

Rising to her feet, Minerva delighted in the substantial height difference between herself and Umbridge. _If you want to appear threatening Dolores, it would help if you at least could look me straight in the eye without craning your neck. To think that I ever regretted being tall. As for Harry... _In resounding notes, her voice rang out, **"Potter, I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly I will make sure you achieve the required results!"** _He will succeed, Dolores. I do not make such promises likely. I will watch you eat your words._ Harry appeared startled by this pronouncement but, rather wisely, chose to remain silent. _Good choice, Potter._

**"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter!" said Umbridge, her voice rising furiously. **_With you hissing in his ear, perhaps, but you assume Cornelius Fudge can manage to continue to disguise his ineptitude from the Wizarding public. _

**"There may well be a new Minister of Magic by the time Potter is ready to join!" shouted Professor McGonagall. **_The public will crucify him when Albus and Harry are revealed as having told the truth all along after Riddle attacks openly even if I cannot find a way to bring down both of you before then. _

**"Aha!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at McGonagall. **Intrigued, Minerva watched as an expression of sudden understanding spread over Dolores' face. **"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's what you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replaced by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and headmistress to boot!"** _Excuse me! Why in Merlin's name would I want to be __anything__ like you, Dolores?_

**"You are raving,"** replied Minerva in her most condescending tone. _Time to get Harry out of the line of fire. _**"Potter, that concludes our career consultation."** Darting out of the room, Harry seemed grateful to escape the battlefield that her office had become.

"I see it clearly now. You have been plotting with Dumbledore to take control of the Ministry. I wonder what he promised you for your support, Minerva," Umbridge shouted, "You want to take my place!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dolores."

"I won't stand for it Minerva. Albus Dumbledore will be arrested and charged with treason. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that Potter does not get a chance to spread his filthy lies any further. And I suggest that you remember exactly _who _is in charge of this school now, Minerva!"

"Hogwarts does not even recognize your authority, Dolores. The Head's office refuses to admit you because the school itself deems you unfit to be Headmistress!" Her voice reverberated inside the small space. Trembling with suppressed fury, Minerva deliberately let her control over her magic slip a fraction. In the fireplace, the embers sparked into flames. Instinctively, Umbridge retreated a couple of steps towards the door and away from Minerva. _Do not fool yourself into believing that you are more powerful than me, Dolores. I am not a first year who can be intimidated or an average witch or wizard who can be manipulated. _

"The Minister himself appointed me as Headmistress!"

"Cornelius' decree means nothing to the wards. Hogwarts is older than the Ministry and the Founders took precautions to prevent someone like you from taking control of the school. They understood the importance of an independent educational institution, unrestricted and uninfluenced by those who seek to pervert the truth for their own purposes, to keep themselves in power," exclaimed Minerva. _Albus only permitted this interference, because he did not want to divide the community on the eve of war. And he has a habit of believing in people, that they will eventually come to their senses and do what is right. If it had been my decision, you would have never crossed the threshold._ Heat from the fire suffused the room and sweat beaded on Dolores' forehead. Cheeks puffed up and scarlet with rage, Dolores sucked in a gasp of outrage.

"You dare accuse me, Minerva! You should be begging to help me catch Dumbledore. Otherwise, you could end up being accused of treachery yourself! A Muggle-born who consorts with traitors, liars, werewolves, and half-breeds! You claim association with an attention-seeking, deceitful, deranged boy and Albus Dumbledore who should have been locked away in Azkaban! The Minister and I are trying to protect the community against such power hungry madmen!" shrieked Dolores. But even as the last syllable spewed from her lips, Dolores found it difficult to breathe, as if all the air had been abruptly evacuated from the room. The fireplace went dark, its flames extinguished while the walls shrank in around her. Behind the desk, Minerva held herself perfectly still. Her hand did not twitch towards her wand, nor did she make any movement towards Umbridge. Only her eyes betrayed her wrath, flickering with the cold flash of moonlight on tempered steel.

_How dare you! _Ice coursing through her veins, Minerva experienced a sudden calmness as if she was standing in the eye of a hurricane. When she spoke, each word sliced through the air. "Listen closely, Dolores, for I will not repeat myself. I will _never_ aid you to so much as light a candle. I will _never_ surrender this school to you. I will _never_ allow you to harm my students without facing the consequences. And I will _**never**_ betray Albus." She drew in a deep breath, waiting for a response.

When none came, she said dismissively, "You have a class to teach, I believe, Dolores. I suggest that you get going." Sitting down, Minerva opened a drawer and removed a sheaf of parchments, uncorking an ink bottle and beginning to correct the first paper. Clacking heels and a creak of hinges informed her that Dolores had withdrawn. Maintaining her casual manner until the door thudded closed, Minerva cast aside the quill she had taken hold of and leaned back in her chair. _Well, the gauntlet has been well and truly thrown down now. I'm sure Dolores will be actively looking for a way to dispose of me from this point on. _Dolores' words played again in her mind. _How dare she accuse Albus of desiring power! How dare she question his sanity and his integrity! He has dedicated his life to the needs of the Wizarding community and __**this**__ is how they repay him? And Harry, he certainly never asked to be orphaned and proclaimed a hero at the same time! I'm sure he would prefer to have Lily and James alive than to be known for a scar on his forehead and what it represents. To think that I would ever help you destroy either of them, Dolores! Harry is my student and I swore to not only teach but to protect all of my students. Albus…Albus, quite apart from everything he has accomplished, is my closest friend. In a way, I wish that Albus was wrong, that Tom Riddle has not returned. Even if I did not believe Harry's story, even if I thought Albus was mistaken, I would __**never**__ abandon him. _

Catching sight of Dolores' pink parchment, Minerva jerked it out of the folder. Then she stood, parchment crumbled in her hand. The hearth roared to life as Minerva strode past it, tossing the wad of parchment onto the fire. _Good riddance. _


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I was absolutely thrilled to get five reviews for chapter seven (the most so far for one chapter). Thank you to everyone who reviewed and to all my readers. The next two chapters will be slightly shorter as I will be filling in some of the time between the Easter holidays and the O.W.L.s.

Question: I have much of chapter nine written already. I could a) post it on schedule next weekend and keep the updates timed consistently or b) post it as soon as I finish it which would mean a longer break between chapters nine and ten (especially since ten should hit the O.W.L.s which is where the plot will divulge from canon, making that section both tricky and very important, and I anticipate having less time to write.) Majority choice wins.

Chapter 8:

"Peeves, exactly what do you think you are doing?" The poltergeist paused in his work, attempting an innocent expression as he turned to face Professor McGonagall who was standing in the open doorway of the Defense classroom.

"Not doing nothing, Professor," replied Peeves. Minerva raised one eyebrow, taking in the sketch of Dolores being gobbled up by the giant squid on the chalkboard and the confetti of torn parchment littering the classroom. Explaining the crash that had attracted her attention, Dolores' chair lay with its legs half-broken, its drawers parted from its body, and the contents of those drawers strewn over the floor. Smashed ink bottles created miniature pools and streams among the destruction.

"Obviously." Glancing up and down the hallway, McGonagall continued, "Do you remember the prank you tried to pull on my first day of teaching, Peeves?"

A wide grin appeared on Peeves' face as he nodded, "Yes, Professor."

"I thought you would. I'm sure that you regret not having a chance to use it." Glee sparkled in Peeves' expression as he caught on.

"Yes, Professor. I was very unhappy," he said, pouting.

"Our new Headmistress is still learning how to run the school, Peeves. I think that it would be beneficial for her to understand your unhappiness, Peeves, as you are an integral part of Hogwarts."

"Yes, Professor, Peevsie's feelings are very important," agreed the poltergeist.

"I'm sure that you will bring that to Dolores attention. Causing mayhem makes you happy, Peeves, doesn't it?" Although phrased as a question, Minerva said it as a statement of fact.

"Very happy, Professor."

"I think Dolores should be made aware of that."

"Yes, Professor." Minerva reached for the doorknob and pulled the door almost shut as Peeves regarded the classroom, rubbing his hands together in joyful anticipation.

"One more thing, Peeves," called McGonagall before she closed the door behind her, "I could be persuaded to overlook your current activities on the condition that Dolores does not misplace the blame onto the students. Am I completely understood, Peeves?"

"Peevsie understands, Professor," he said, nodding his head vigorously. "Peevsie will make sure of that."

"See that you do." Minerva pulled the door firmly shut. _Consorting with Peeves, what is Hogwarts coming to?_ Noticing that Peeves' renewed racket was more than audible in the hallway, Minerva cast a soundproofing charm on the door. _No need for any other staff to be bothered by the noise if they are in the vicinity._ As a finishing touch, she locked and jinxed the door. Dolores would be forced to use her entire weight as leverage to try to open the door which would then give way suddenly, dumping Dolores on the floor. _What a pity I won't be able to witness it._

"You look pleased with yourself," said Severus when she entered the staff room half an hour later. Seating herself at one head of the long table, Minerva bantered with Severus as the rest of the professors drifted into the room. In order to avoid Umbridge, the Deputy Headmistress had initiated an additional bi-weekly meeting on the Friday afternoon while Dolores had class. The regular staff meeting, due to Dolores' pompous habits, had quickly become exceedingly unproductive. Therefore, Minerva had been forced to schedule an alternative meeting to ensure that everything ran smoothly.

"I was just contemplating your impending loss tomorrow, Severus."

"Perhaps you should be examined by Poppy, Minerva. You do not usually exhibit such delusions."

"Severus, you still lack a captain."

"Montague, I am sorry to inform you, is being released from the Hospital wing today. Therefore, I believe I will take the time to dust off the shelf for the Quidditch trophy this afternoon."

"Pride cometh before a fall, remember that," retorted Minerva.

"Weasley couldn't save a goal if his life depended on it. And with half of your team prohibited from participating…a Slytherin victory is inevitable, Minerva. I suggest you accept that fact."

"Severus, what does it say about your team if the only way they can win is if the best players on the opposing team have been taken off the field?"

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but Filius broke in, "Severus, Minerva, I'm stopping this argument before it goes any further. Besides, aren't we supposed to be trying for House unity?"

"Not when it comes to Quidditch, Filius," declared Minerva. However, she changed the subject, addressing the staff at large, "I trust that everyone has reviewed the final exam schedule?" The professors nodded or murmured their compliance. "Are there any conflicts?"

"I have a couple of seventh years who will need to reschedule their exams," said Professor Vector. "Shall I send them to you?"

"As soon as possible. I'll need time to owl Professor Marchbanks. Anyone else?" Having received only negative responses, Minerva continued, "If a problem arises within the next few days, please see me immediately. Poppy, I believe you wanted to add something?"

"Thank you, Minerva," the school nurse said. "I would like to remind everyone to monitor the students, particularly the fifth and seventh years as they tend to overstress themselves. Send them to me if they start getting persistent headaches or insomnia or exhibiting any other unusual behavior."

"We will keep that in mind, Poppy. If that is all the official business?" Minerva waited a few seconds before pressing on, "Then we can proceed to the matter of Dolores. Would anyone care to start?"

"Within the past two weeks, she has assigned detentions to dozens of students from every House except Slytherin," reported Filius, "The number of points taken is staggering as well."

"The Inquisitorial Squad has continued to bully the other students, especially the younger ones," added Pomona. "Yesterday, one of my first years was being chased down a flight of stairs by Crabbe and Goyle and stumbled. Luckily, he was close to the bottom; otherwise he probably would have broken bones."

"I've had more students report to the Hospital wing in the past few weeks than I normally receive over the course of an entire year," testified Poppy, her jaw tightened and her words sharp. "Dolores chose the biggest bullies in the school and basically gave them permission to torment the other children. It's abominable."

"You must admit though, that the older students are demonstrating some remarkable wand work when opposing the Inquisitorial Squad," Filius said rather proudly.

"Minerva, I overheard the students saying that Dolores approved the use of corporal punishments. They were saying that she gave permission for _whipping _to Filch?" Charity Burbage appealed to the Deputy to deny this piece of gossip.

"So far, it does not appear that Dolores has dared to go that extreme. However, I have heard the same rumors and, considering what she has done in the past, it would not be out of the realm of possibility." At Minerva's words, Charity collapsed into her chair, clearly not ready to accept the fact that anyone would even consider the notion.

"I've had owls from several parents who are concerned about what little they have heard from their children about Dolores," said Pomona. "They're worried. Unfortunately, I don't know what I could say to reassure them."

"There is not much you can say, Pomona," responded Minerva. "Their concerns are well founded. I have received similar inquiries from other parents from every house including a few from Slytherin. Dolores' screening and censorship of mail has disturbed them greatly, even if they are unable to obtain exact details of what is going on. For now, tell them that we are aware of the situation and are doing the best we can to ensure their children's wellbeing."

"Sooner or later, they have to realize that something is wrong," exclaimed Aurora. "The Ministry can't keep brainwashing them forever, right?"

"Never underestimate the public's gullibility. They would rather bury their heads in the sand than admit the truth." Scowl fixed firmly in place, he continued, "Our new Headmistress knows this. Without conclusive proof, the general population will not challenge the Minister and his appointed Headmistress."

"Which is precisely why I asked everyone to keep a record of Dolores' actions here at Hogwarts," interjected Minerva. "With enough evidence,we have a better chance of being believed." Meeting the eyes of every staff member, Minerva promised, "Regardless of what Fudge and Umbridge think, Hogwarts will be returned to its proper Headmaster in due course. This institution has survived numerous wars and social upheavals; it will outlast this current administration's crusade. I realize that this year has been difficult on everyone. Concentrate on seeing the students through their exams and keep recording any incidences involving Dolores or her Inquisitorial Squad. Once you have a significant number, please give me a copy. I want you to hold onto the original, just in case." With that Minerva rose, preparing to dismiss the staff.

"Minerva?" She paused, turning to face Aurora who asked, "Why are Hagrid and Firenze absent?"

"I thought it best that they avoid any chance of running into Dolores. Out of sight, out of mind, Aurora. If there is anything else you would like to discuss, I'm afraid that you will have to speak with me later. Her class is almost over and therefore we are out of time." Taking the hint, the professors filed out quickly. With a wave of her wand, Minerva transfigured the table back into a regular desk. She cast one last glance around the room before exiting, possessing no desire to have Dolores find her there.

_Damn!_ Minerva ducked into a hidden passageway behind a tapestry as she heard Dolores' distinctive tones echoing down the hallway. Quickly traversing the narrow pathway, Minerva came out close to one of the main staircases which took her down to the ground floor. In the fading afternoon light, she crossed the lawn to Hagrid's hut.

"Hagrid?" she called as she knocked on the door. "It's Professor McGonagall." _No answer and I don't hear any movement inside._ _Rubeus must be in the Forbidden Forest. _She directed her steps towards the thestrals' enclosure, hoping that Rubeus would be found there.

"Woof!" Fang bounded towards her when she appeared at the edge of the paddock. Slobbering all over the hem over her robes, he whined until she reached down and scratched his ears. _You are just a big softy, aren't you? _While she was occupied, Hagrid extracted himself from the group of thestrals and made his way over to her.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall." _He looks terrible_, Minerva thought, _I need to speak to Albus about his special project. Albus gave him permission, but if this is how it is turning out…we may have to consider other options._ A bruise darkened Hagrid's cheek while he seemed to be favoring his right leg. _And I probably won't be able to talk to Albus anytime soon without compromising my position. _

"Hello, Hagrid. How are you?"

"Jus' fine, Professor. Don't worry 'bout me," said Hagrid. "Yeh have more important things on yer mind. I'll be alright. Not that I don' mind the company, but is there a particular reason yeh came to see me?"

"I thought you would like to know what happened in the staff meeting." She offered Hagrid a small smile, continuing, "To be honest, I felt like a bit of fresh air. I needed to get out of the castle for a while."

"I 'ppreciate that, Professor. And yeh know, yeh are always welcome here," he replied, a responding smile making his eyes brighten and his entire demeanor lighten.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing at the waiting thestrals.

"O' course," Hagrid said, walking with her over to the herd. With a soft whinny, one trotted up to her immediately. Recognizing the gray sickle-shaped birthmark on his shoulder, Minerva rubbed his forehead.

"Hello, Hasufel. Do you still remember me?" The thestral bobbed his head up and down.

"Course he remembers yeh, Professor. You helped me bring 'im into the world. And yeh know, he only allows you and the Headmaster to ride 'im." As Minerva reacquainted herself with Hasufel, Hagrid recalled the stormy winter night that Hasufel had been born. He had come early and it had been a breech birth. Desperate, he had ordered Fang to bring back help from the castle. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had been the first person he found, or rather, the first person willing to venture outside. Most people would have balked at being asked to assist in a thestral's birth. On the other hand, Minerva McGonagall had transfigured a spare bit of cloth into a robe which she won't care about getting dirty, rolled up her sleeves, and spent the night in a hastily constructed shelter in the Forbidden Forest. When the time came to name the foal, Minerva had been the only choice to pick the name. Watching the young thestral gallop about the paddock, Minerva had declared his name to be Hasufel. Curious at the unusual name, Hagrid had asked her for its origin. Minerva had informed him that it was the name of a faithful steed that had carried his master into the midst of war and not flinched. Perhaps sensing that Minerva had been present at his birth, Hasufel developed a fondness for the Deputy Headmistress and insisted upon being her mount on the very rare occasions when she chose to travel that way. Over time, he had extended this honor to the Headmaster, but still preferred Minerva if given the option. _Animals always did take to her. I 'spect that they know she never means anyone any harm except for those who threaten her cubs. Fierce, but as good-hearted as they come. _

"Hagrid?" her voice brought him back to the present.

"Sorry, Professor," apologized Hagrid, realizing that she had been speaking.

"It's alright, Hagrid. I was just talking about the staff meeting. You did not miss anything important; we merely discussed the current situation."

"Have you heard from the Headmaster, Professor?" Bending down to unwrap a hunk of meat, Hagrid began slicing it into pieces for each thestral.

"Not recently, I'm afraid. I've received the latest Order reports of course, but I haven't spoken to Albus personally." Minerva laid a hand on Hagrid's arm, "I'm sure he is fine, Hagrid. Knowing Albus, he is probably hiding out in a Muggle sweetshop."

"I hope not. He'll never come back," Hagrid managed to rejoin, distressed over the Headmaster's absence. Finished cutting, he stood and distributed a slice to each thestral.

"He will be back, Hagrid, if I have to drag him out of that sweetshop by his ears," she deadpanned, causing Hagrid to chuckle at the prospect. At that point, Fang, feeling left out, jumped on Hagrid who allowed the boarhound to knock him to the ground.

"Get off, yeh big lug." Fang rolled off him, satisfied in having attracted their attention. "I remember when you brought me Fang's grandmother," said Hagrid as he played tug-of-war with using a large branch.

"She needed a good home, and you were the logical choice, Hagrid."

"I couldn' figure out what it was that you were holdin' when you knocked on my door," recalled Hagrid. In his mind, he visualized a younger Professor McGonagall, who was merely Miss McGonagall at that time, carrying a mottled brown bundle in her arms. He had been bewildered until it began to squirm. Deep brown eyes had opened and fixed their gaze on him.

_"I found her on an assignment, Hagrid. Since I don't have the time or space to properly care for her, I thought that you might be willing to take her in," _she had explained. Hagrid hadn't hesitated, transferring the pup from Minevra's arms to his. He had tried to thank her, but she had refused to accept his gratitude claiming that she was glad that the pup would be in good hands. Instructing the pup to behave herself, Minerva had bid them goodbye and continued on her way to meet Dumbledore. Before she left the grounds, she had stopped by the hut to check up on them and give the pup one last scratch behind the ears.

"I was kinda lonely, yeh know. Missy helped with that a lot," he admitted. "I don't wan' ter leave Hogwarts, but I don't know how much longer I'll be able ter stay."

"I hope you won't have to leave Hogwarts, Rubeus. But even if you are forced to flee, it will not be permanent. I believe I can safely promise you that." _Hogwarts is your home, Hagrid. No one should be allowed to drive you from it, certainly not that toad of a Headmistress._

"Yer right, Professor. As usual." He tossed the branch and the pair watched Fang bolt after it. "I gotta keep my hopes up." Tail wagging proudly, Fang laid the branch at Hagrid's feet. For a few minutes, the professors entertained the thestrals by playing fetch with Fang. The boarhound had no regard for any obstacle in his path and so often ended up tangled in a bush, running into something, or tripping over small sticks and rocks.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid I have to return to the castle, Hagrid. Will you be joining us for dinner?" said Minerva, noticing how the slanted the light had become.

"I don't think so, Professor. I'd rather stay out here."

"If I thought that Dolores would not notice my absence, I would not dine in the Great Hall either. Goodnight, Hagrid." With a final stroke of Hasufel's forehead, Minerva murmured, "Goodbye to you too, Hasufel, Fang."

"Goodnight, Professor." Minerva turned and headed up towards the lights of the castle. At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, she looked over her should, barely able to distinguish Hagrid in the shadows. _Although sometimes his judgment of creatures leaves a little to be desired, Hagrid is by far the better human being than Dolores Umbridge. By your very existence Dolores, you prove those asinine theories of yours about the superiority of pure-bloods wrong. Especially when compared to people like Hagrid, Filius, and Miss Granger. _

"Professor McGonagall!" screeched Dolores as soon as she saw Minerva approaching the staff table. "I demand that something be done about that poltergeist." The rest of the table immediately quieted to observe their interaction.

"I assume you are referring to Peeves, Dolores?" _Where on earth did you manage to find that a pink bow that large? I don't understand how you expect anyone to take you seriously when you stick that monstrosity on your head._ As a rule, Minerva paid little to no attention to her colleagues' choice of attire. Dolores' outfits, however, were impossible not to notice and revile.

"Of course, I am referring to Peeves, Minerva unless Hogwarts has another poltergeist who I am unaware of?" insisted Dolores. Ignoring her for the moment, Minerva claimed the free seat between Severus and Pomona.

"Pass the potatoes please, Pomona," requested Minerva, not even looking in Dolores' direction. "Thank you. What exactly do you want done to Peeves, Dolores?"

"I want him removed from this school. And I want it done immediately," Dolores demanded, slamming her hand down on the table to emphasize the point. _Very childish, Dolores. _Minerva waited until she had filled her plate and poured herself a glass of ice water before answering the Headmistress. Meanwhile, the staff watched them out of the corners of their eyes.

"As I've already explained to you, Dolores, Peeves has become integrated with the castle wards. Without his consent, his removal would involve reworking those wards to detach him from them."

"Then I suggest that you begin right away," ordered Dolores, a contented smile on her face. Confident that she would be rid of Peeves and, at the same time, had created more work for the Deputy Headmistress, Dolores stuffed a forkful of bread pudding into her mouth.

"Unfortunately, Dolores, manipulation of the wards to that degree requires the authorization and participation of the Headmaster or Headmistress," Minerva informed her flatly. "And since the Head's office has refused you admittance, Hogwarts will certainly not permit you to access to the wards."

Swallowing her mouthful, Dolores glared at Minerva. Determined to have her way, she said in a threatening tone of voice, "I do hope that you are not being difficult on purpose, Minerva. I am the Ministry-appointed Headmistress of this school and I would hate to inform Cornelius that you are not cooperating."

"Dolores, if you wish to attempt to access the wards on your own, I will not stop you," said Minerva calmly. She paused, pretended to consider the possibility, and then added, "However, I should warn you that the wards are not accustomed to such interference from someone who has yet to be formally accepted as the Head. They tend to respond in unpredictable and dangerous ways. I believe that the last person who tried lost all of his powers and was paralyzed from the waist down. But, you are correct, Dolores. You are the Ministry-appointed Headmistress. If you feel that it is worth the risk…by all means, do whatever you think is necessary to get rid of Peeves." _At the very least, your power will be drained. At worst, you might find yourself enjoying a new perspective as a stone statue or babbling in St. Mungo's long-term care ward. _

Trying to maintain an illusion of superiority, Dolores announced, "I believe that I can manage one insignificant poltergeist on my own." She pushed herself up and stomped, her bow flopping on her squat head, out of the Great Hall via the staff entrance.

"What exactly has Peeves done this time?" asked Aurora.

"According to my third years, Peeves destroyed her room. He lifted and dropped her desk, smashed ink bottles, shredded every scrap of parchment, and overturned the desks," answered Filius.

"More than that Filius," chimed in Poppy. "I happened to be walking by on the way to our staff meeting. Apparently, Peeves spread invisible glue over her little platform, her desk, her chair, the chalk, the eraser, virtually anything she would come in contact with. It got all over the pieces of parchment too." The nurse grinned, "She didn't notice until it was too late."

"What happened to her? Tell me it was embarrassing," pleaded Aurora.

"She was walking around barefoot because her shoes and socks had gotten stuck. Her head and robes looked like she had a bad case of dandruff with all bits of paper attached to her." Muffled laughter escaped from some of the professors. "Just as I passed by, that ridiculous bow of hers got caught on the chalkboard. She didn't notice and kept on walking. I'm sure you can imagine the result. She's probably wearing that bow right over the bald spot."

Snickers revealed that the rest of the faculty could and did envisage Dolores' fate. While the other teachers chuckled and pressed Poppy for more details, Severus observed a veritable cat that caught the canary expression flit across the Minerva's face. The Gryffindor refrained from participating in the discussion, quietly finishing her dinner. _I do believe that there is more to this story. What did you do, Minerva? _Sensing Severus' stare, Minerva tilted her head slightly in question. Severus dropped his gaze, determined to find out the whole story later. A memory stirred, somehow the glue element sounded familiar.

"Pomona, I'll meet you outside my office for rounds at nine," said Minerva, rising as she spoke. She stopped behind Poppy's chair on her way out, "Poppy, would you mind checking on Sibyll tonight?"

"I'll stop by after dinner. Merlin knows, she has enough trouble taking care of herself under normal conditions," replied Poppy. "Goodnight Minerva, Severus." Potions Master had overtaken Minerva and was now waiting for her at the staff entrance.

"The book you requested is in my office," Severus said, "Would you like to retrieve it now?"

"That would be acceptable, Severus." Minerva discreetly drew her robes closer around her as they reached the dungeon level. _It's always so blasted cold down here. _With a tap of his wand, Severus unlocked his office, ushering Minerva in before him. While he located the book, _A Survey of 19__th__ Century Defensive Magic_, Minerva idly examined the potions and ingredients lining the walls. A new addition caught her attention, the shimmering potion swirling in perfect figure eights.

"It's an experimental variation of an antidote to Veritaserum," Severus enlightened her. "I have been endeavoring to extend the length of time it remains effective."

"Have you had any success?"

"This specific concoction will protect the drinker for three more hours than the standard two." Brief as a lightning flash, Severus' lips quirked upwards ever so slightly in what might be called satisfaction at his accomplishment. "I would describe the method, but you have never had any particular interest in Potions. You prefer fancy wand-work instead."

"On the contrary, Severus, I have the greatest respect for your abilities," she assured him. "I simply never possessed any notable skills in Potions and therefore would not be able to fully appreciate your achievement. I can, however, appreciate the work itself and the potential usefulness of such a potion."

"I suppose that will have to be enough."

"The usual response to a compliment is 'Thank you' for your future reference, Severus," admonished Minerva, albeit without any true bite in her words.

"I will keep that in mind, considering how many compliments I receive. Here is your book," he said, handing her the thick volume. Minerva flipped it open and began scanning the first few pages to ensure that it contained the information she sought.

"This will do nicely, Severus. I should it have it back to you within a week or two. Goodnight, Severus," she moved to leave. In that instant, the memory, which had been haunting him ever since Poppy recounted Dolores' mishap, solidified.

"You gave Peeves the idea for the glue didn't you?" accused Severus.

"Whatever gives you that impression, Severus?"

"When I started teaching here, Peeves tried to disrupt my first class. You told me that he does that to each new professor. If I remember correctly, you also told me that he attempted to use the glue trick on you on your first day of classes. I don't think that it is a coincidence that Peeves employed it against Dolores today." He waited, daring her to contradict him.

"Your memory is correct, Severus. As for it being a coincidence," the cat that caught the canary expression reappeared, "Let's just say that I happened to mention it in passing to Peeves this afternoon." In a swish of emerald robes, Minerva slipped out of the office. As she climbed the stairs, she reflected upon the outcome of Peeves' most recent assault against Dolores. _Although I would have liked to witness it personally, it appears to have been quite successful._ Unbeknownst to her, a smile crept onto her lips. _And Severus never needs to know that Peeves was not the original inventor of the particular prank. Of course, we used a sticking spell rather than actual glue. Abraxas Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team were not pleased to be attached to their brooms for a couple of hours, waddling around until the professors managed to reverse the spell. It helped that none of the professors could prove conclusively who had cast the spell in the first place. _


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I just wanted to warn everyone that I may not get this updated next weekend because real life is eating away at my writing time. On the other hand, it should be longer than my usual post (I try to post at least ten pages and the next chapter has already hit seven). Thanks to my reviewers.

Chapter 9:

"Mr. Longbottom, watch closely." Professor McGonagall enunciated each step as she demonstrated the motion, "Raise your wand straight up, bring it down at a downward angle, and flick while speaking the incantation. Now, let me see you try it. Just the wand movement first." Reviewing for their O.W.L.s, the rest of class was busy practicing different spells while Minerva focused on getting Neville's Vanishing spell up to par.

His brows scrunched together in concentration, Neville mimicked her example. Up, down at an angle, up again slightly, and then flick. He glanced up at her for approval.

"You lifted your wand again after you brought it down, Longbottom. Try again." This time, he managed to perform it correctly and Minerva gave him a nod of approval. "Now, add the incantation." On his desk, the kitten meowed anxiously as Neville prepare to cast the spell; she had already been partially vanished twice.

"Evanesco," muttered Neville. The kitten vanished completely. With a wave of her wand, Minerva disenchanted the kitten.

"Keep practicing, Mr. Longbottom. If you are able to consistently vanish the kitten, move on to the next set of spells." Scanning the room, she saw Lavender Brown struggling with a Cross-Species Switching spell. While she assisted Ms. Brown, she overheard Hermione correcting Harry and Ron.

"You're going to put someone's eye out if you keep doing that, Ron," Hermione said exasperated. "And the 's' is silent, Harry. Honestly, Ron, that's not even close. You have to remember to keep your wand level." Minerva noticed that, although the two boys grumbled, they generally accepted her advice. Trusting in Ms. Granger's abilities, Minerva allowed herself to focus on the other students and left the trio alone. She spent the rest of the period helping with wand-work and pronunciation.

"Students, please return any materials or animals to their proper containers," announced McGonagall a few minutes before the bell rang. After everything was put away and the students seated at their desks, she continued, "As you know, your exam will take place on Tuesday, six days from now. I suggest that you come to class Friday with a list of spells with which you are struggling. I will be available on Saturday and Sunday from noon until five p.m. to answer questions or practice spells. You are dismissed." The bell sounded as she finished. As the students poured out of the classroom, Minerva began checking the animals to ensure that they were all unharmed and present.

"Professor McGonagall?" _Ms. Granger, of course, probably with a question about the exam._

"What can I do for you, Ms. Granger?" asked Minerva.

"I was just wondering, Professor, if I should look over any other books besides the assigned textbooks?" Clutching the strap of her book bag, Hermione nervously shifted on her feet.

"That would not be necessary, Ms. Granger. As it stands, you should not have any trouble with this exam." Minerva attempted to set the girl's mind at rest, "You have achieved the top marks in every exam you have taken since you arrived. I see no reason why these ones would turn out any differently."

"Hermione! Come on!" yelled Ron from outside the classroom.

"You will do fine, Ms. Granger," Minerva assured her. "You shouldn't keep Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter waiting much longer. I daresay they are anxious to get to lunch."

"Thanks, Professor. I might still stop by on Saturday and Sunday to practice if that's alright?"

"Of course, Ms. Granger."

"Have a good afternoon, Professor." Looking slightly less frazzled, Hermione exited the classroom and caught up with the boys. Minerva faintly heard Ronald Weasley complaining that he was going to starve before they reached the Great Hall due to Hermione's delay. _Teenage boys always think with their stomachs. _

After lunch, during which Minerva enjoyed subtly gloating about the spectacular Gryffindor victory the previous Saturday to Severus, she sequestered herself in her office. At the end of every school year, the Headmaster presented the Board of Governors with an annual report. Ordinarily, she and Albus split the work of writing it. She handled the numerical data: the finances, supplies, student scores etc. Albus was responsible for reviewing and assessing the curriculum, describing any incidences or mishaps, summarizing parental concerns and comments, and evaluating the staff. Although Albus had the final say, they collaborated on issues such as proposed modifications to the castle itself and long-term goals. In Albus' absence, the whole of the task had fallen to Minerva. _Naturally, Dolores' claim to the Headship would not extend to actually performing the work required of that position. _

_Remind me to berate Albus for his abysmal handwriting and organization system at the first opportunity,_ thought Minerva as she tried to decipher his notes on the Muggle Studies syllabus for the fourth years. _How the man locates anything in his office continues to amaze me_. Albus' desk and cabinets appeared chaotic yet he somehow managed to find exactly what he desired at any given moment. With practice, Minerva had learned to navigate his filing system, but only to a certain extent and not without the assistance of a few summoning spells. Earlier that week, Minerva had searched out the bundles of papers containing the information necessary for the completion of the report. His handwriting also required a certain skill to understand. _Something that starts with air_, she squinted, _airplanes, that's it. He would like Charity to cover the development of airplanes and automobiles in more detail._ Methodically, Minerva decoded Albus' notations for each subject and transferred them, condensing when needed, into the report.

By the time she finished the Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, Herbology, and Astronomy programs, a family of trolls had taken up residence inside her head and were entertaining themselves by smashing their clubs against her skull. _Damn it, Albus. Next time, it's my turn to be expelled from the castle and let you deal with the annual report._ Removing her glasses, she massaged her temples. It didn't help. Doggedly, she pushed aside the pain and plowed onwards through the Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy courses.

"Dong!" The sound of the bell caused Minerva to wince. _I wish I could take my meal here, but Dolores would probably insist upon tracking me down and knowing why. Besides,_ she scolded herself, _the students are expecting to see you there. Surely, you can put up with Dolores for less than an hour. _She drew in a deep breath, levered herself to her feet, and made her way down to the Great Hall. Echoing in the Entrance Hall, the chatter and clatter of the students assaulted her. Her face carefully expressionless, she entered the Great Hall through the professors' side door and selected a seat as far away from Dolores Umbridge as possible.

Despite this precaution, the toad's high-pitched voice and the general clamor of mealtimes in the Great Hall inspired the trolls to swing their clubs with more force. Nevertheless, Minerva refused to give any outward sign of her discomfort. _I will not give Dolores that satisfaction._

"Her whole classroom stank of rotten eggs for the entire day," confided Aurora to Septima Vector on Minerva's right.

"I think I can still smell it on her from here," replied Vector. "Which student pulled it off? If I see him or her, I would like to express my gratitude in some way. A hundred points seems like an appropriate reward."

"It must have been a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor third year since that's her first class of the day."

"That explains why she wasn't at lunch today. I was wondering…the toad usually doesn't miss a chance to lord her status over the rest of us mere plebes," commented Septima.

"She didn't want to come to lunch wearing eau de rotten eggs." Grinning, Aurora said, "Stupid woman couldn't manage to get rid of the scent."

"Sometimes, I truly adore our students. Hello, Severus. You're late," directed Septima towards the approaching Potions Master.

"I was unavoidably detained by the incompetence of the students you were just praising, Septima." He yanked out a chair on Minerva's left, grousing, "Richards apparently lacks the ability to read rudimentary instructions. The resulting concoction melted his cauldron and ate halfway through the table. He'll be scrubbing the potions equipment for the rest of the term." Severus anticipated a sharp rebuke from the Gryffindor Head, considering that Arnold Richards was one of her third years.

"Mr. Richards was unhurt, I presume?" was Minerva's only reply.

"Unfortunately. He might remember to follow the instructions next time if he had a souvenir to remind him," said Severus. _No chiding remark on my teaching style, Minerva? _thought the Slytherin when she failed to reproach him. McGonagall barely appeared to hear him. _Strange, she normally leaps to defend her Gryffindors. _Examining her surreptitiously, he noticed that very little of the food on her plate actually made it into her mouth. Her lips were drawn tightly with a deeply furrowed brow.

"Minerva?" Severus kept his voice low.

"What is it, Severus?" barked Minerva. _I am not in the mood to argue with you, Severus._ _Why are the lights so blasted bright? _

As she lifted her head, Severus caught the grimace which flickered across her features as a particularly loud squeal erupted from a nearby group of girls. He asked quietly, "Are you alright, Minerva?"

"I'm fine." _Stubborn Gryffindor. Never admit to being anything less than 'fine.' You could be slowly bleeding to death or missing limbs and the answer would still be 'Fine.' _Recognizing the futility of any effort to get her to admit the truth, Severus allowed her to finish the meal without any further inquest or conversation. For her part, Minerva concentrated on getting through the remainder of dinner without giving in to the urge to excuse herself early. After most of the students had left the Great Hall, Dolores got to her feet.

"The Heads of Houses will report to the staff room immediately," a nasty smile stretched Dolores' flabby face. _What has she devised this time? Surely it can't be another bloody Education Decree?_ _I swear if I see one more of those things…._ In order to irritate Dolores, Minerva pretended not to have finished her dinner. Dolores glared at the Heads of Houses, none of whom had budged an inch, and then proceeded to stomp her way out of the Great Hall. She said imperiously, "I expect to see you all there shortly," before letting the door slam behind her. Minerva flinched almost imperceptibly at the resounding bang.

"I think I'm going to need another helping of chocolate pudding before being in the same room with that woman again," declared Pomona. She scooped a generous portion onto her plate. Offering the dish to Filius, she inquired politely, "Anyone else? Filius? Severus? Minerva?"

Filius followed Pomona's example while Severus and Minerva both refused. One by one, the other professors expressed their sympathy to the Heads and left the table. When only the four Heads of Houses remained, Filius spoke up, "Does anyone know why Dolores specifically wanted us?"

"I have no idea, Filius," said Minerva. "And, frankly, I couldn't care less." Lingering as long as possible, the professors began meandering towards the staff room. By unspoken consent, they took a circuitous route to force Dolores to wait on them even longer. Before rounding the final corridor, Minerva paused, indicating that the other professors were to go on without her. _Just ignore the headache and don't lose your temper. _The trolls continued to pound on her skull as she walked the last few meters to the staff room.

"Minerva, you finally decided to join us. How nice," simpered Dolores. "Please, take a seat." Four chairs had been arranged in a semicircle facing three other seats across an oval coffee table with Dolores in the center, flanked by two men. Instantly, Minerva recognized them as Aurors Gavin Dawlish and Terrence Wright. Both fidgeted when her gaze rested on each of them in turn.

"I prefer to stand, Dolores. Mr. Dawlish, Mr. Wright, I am surprised to see you here."

On Dolores' right, Terrence Wright leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. Strongly built with cropped sandy brown hair, Wright had played Beater for Gryffindor some twenty-five years ago as Minerva recalled. He spoke with a hint of embarrassment, "Professor McGonagall, we apologize for the inconvenience. This shouldn't take long."

"Provided you answer the questions truthfully and are shown to be acting in accordance with Ministry policy," Dawlish stipulated haughtily. Under her strictest teacher glare, however, the Auror's demeanor abruptly lost much of its arrogance and he refrained from speaking for some time. _Twenty years out of Hogwarts and it still works on him._

"This meeting has been called to assess your compliance with the new Ministry decrees," announced Dolores. "The Aurors and I will be asking questions regarding your conduct during this school year. Please help yourself to a cup of tea while we chat." With a hyena's smile, Dolores picked up the teapot resting on the table poured each Head of House a cup. Minerva, standing with one hand placed on the back of Filius' chair, merely placed it back on the table after Dolores handed it to her. _Doctored with Veritaserum, no doubt. _Unfortunately, the movement caused a sharp stab of pain to spike down her spine. _You will not show the slightest weakness,_ Minerva ordered herself, _no matter what. _Dolores' face colored as the four Heads refused her tea. _Dolores, you must assume that everyone possesses an intelligence equal to yours if you believe that we would fall for such an obvious ploy. _

"Hem, hem, well, why don't we start with the matter of Harry Potter?" Dolores turned immediately to Minerva, "You promised to help him become an Auror, didn't you Minerva? Despite his record, you presumed to judge him as an acceptable candidate to join the elite of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm sure these gentlemen feel that was inappropriate." Smugly, she looked to the Aurors to support her.

"With all due respect, Headmistress, Professor McGonagall has educated most of the current Aurors. I am sure that the Professor is well aware of the requirements for candidacy and, after comparing Mr. Potter to other students who joined the Aurors, deemed him a likely candidate," countered Wright. Gaping, Dolores obviously had not expected any dissention among the Ministry ranks. _Trying to catch flies, Dolores? I'm sure that they taste quite good to you. _

Forced to give up that line of questioning, Dolores regrouped, "Potter has been telling lies since last year, what have you done about that?"

Severus jumped in, taking advantage of the opportunity, "Potter has an inflated ego which causes him to believe that the universe revolves around him. Personally, I refuse to treat him any differently than the other students. When he needs to be disciplined, I ensure that it is sufficient to impress upon him that he will not be permitted to misbehave merely because of a scar on his forehead." _The same as any other student, Severus? You would never speak of Draco Malfoy that way. _However, Minerva knew that Slytherin was, at least in part, trying to maintain the illusion that he was not a threat to Dolores.

It worked. Dolores smirked at Severus, swallowing his words greedily. She sneered, "Absolutely right, Professor Snape, I see you understand me." Severus' jaw twitched at this pronouncement; Minerva interpreted it as a minute sign of the distaste with which Severus viewed any implication of a likeness between himself and Dolores. "I believe that you may leave, Severus," said Dolores. Without a backwards glance, Severus swept out of the room.

"Professor Flitwick, what is your opinion on the Educational Decrees? Do you feel that they have improved the quality of education at Hogwarts?" asked Wright.

Choosing his words carefully, Filius replied, "Mr. Wright, I think that we should wait for the exam results to decide that. I'm sure that the student scores will demonstrate if and how the Educational Decrees affected the students' education."

"Professor Sprout?" prompted Wright, shifting his attention to the Hufflepuff Head.

"I agree with Professor Flitwick. It's too early to confirm anything either way, Mr. Wright." Internally, Minerva applauded her colleagues' tact and evasiveness. _Let Dolores think that you are no threat to her as well. _

"I'm sure you have an opinion, Minerva," said Dolores in a disdainful tone of voice. "You are, after all, the Deputy Headmistress. You must have reached some conclusion about the changes this year?"

"Naturally, Dolores." Accusations and insults threatened to spill from her tongue so Minerva crossed to the sideboard, her back to the group. Reheating the teapot kept full by the house-elves, Minerva fixed herself a cup of tea. _Do not lose your temper. Dawlish may have been subverted by Dolores, but Wright appears to have retained his autonomy. The more Aurors who can be convinced of Umbridge's and Fudge's despicability, the better. _Forcing yet another wave of pain into submission, Minerva returned to the others. Her muscles advised against sitting down as she appraised the comfort level of the chairs Dolores had found, but her headache demanded more stability than she currently had in a standing position. _Are you a witch or not Minerva?_ With a flick of her wand, she vanished the two empty chairs to Filius' left. Another flick conjured a chair which suited her better, accented with Gryffindor red and gold cushions.

Disregarding Dolores and Dawkins, Minerva focused on the one person with whom reason might have an influence. In a clear voice, she laid out the facts of the situation. "As you alluded to earlier, Mr. Wright, I have been teaching longer than any other professor currently employed at Hogwarts. My record speaks for itself. While I agree with my esteemed colleagues that the effects of this year's changes should not be conclusively decided upon until the exam results are known, I have already noticed problems stemming from the Ministry's interference. The Headmaster or Headmistress sets the tone for the entire school. I have observed that, with Professor Dumbledore's departure, Dolores has had trouble keeping the school in order, indeed, she has trouble keeping her own classes in order."

"Hem, hem." Puffed up with indignation, Dolores' honeyed voice demanded, "Surely, you didn't mean to imply that I am incompetent, Minerva? That would hardly show the proper deference for the Ministry."

"Dolores, as far as I am aware, you do not represent the entire Ministry. I respect the laws and ideals upon which the Ministry is founded. Those within the Ministry, however, are not infallible and can be removed from their position if they are deemed unfit. Furthermore, if an employee of the Ministry were to violate the law, they should be held responsible. Don't you agree, Mr. Wright?" solicited Minerva, her pose regal as she regarded the Auror.

"Wholeheartedly, Professor McGonagall." Hearing Mr. Wright's agreement, Dolores sputtered, but failed to form any coherent words._ If my head would only stop pounding…_

"No one is exempt from the law, Professor. Including Albus Dumbledore." _Dawlish must have found his tongue again. What a pity. _

"Absolutely right, Dawlish," hissed Dolores. "Eventually, he will be made to face consequences of his treachery. If any of you are in contact with him, you will be charged as accomplices."

"Wright and I were asked by the Headmistress to interview you regarding Dumbledore's whereabouts and examine any communications which might contain messages from him," Dawlish informed them. Instantly, the three professors' expressions hardened in defiance. "It would go easier on you if you admitted if you have had any contact with him before we begin." _Go to hell, Dawlish, and be sure to take Dolores with you. _Minerva's temper flared along with her headache, causing her to grip the rounded ends of the chair arms so hard that her knuckles whitened.

Since none of the professors appeared likely to fall to their knees and confess, Dawlish asked the obvious question. "Do you know where Dumbledore is now?"

"Afraid not," came from Pomona, accompanied by a shake of her head.

"No idea," answered Filius, one hand shifting towards his wand.

"No." Dolores looked at her suspiciously. _What did you expect me to say, Dolores? Whether or not, I actually knew anything, I would rather walk across hot coals than help you catch Albus. Although you would find that the catching part might be challenging. After all, it's not as if he defeated a Dark Lord, now is it?_

"Have you seen Dumbledore after he fled Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Pomona.

"Nor have I," added Filius.

"No."

"Have you been in communication with him?" barked out Dawlish.

"Nope," said Pomona, wondering if she could possibly trick Dawlish and Umbridge into greenhouse five and lock the pair inside overnight. Her carnivorous orchids had been getting hungry and they probably would only require an arm from each person to satisfy them.

"Not since he left Hogwarts." Filius' hand twitched as he pondered his extensive repertory of dueling spells, searching for the perfect one.

"No."

"Have you assisted him in any way?" persisted Dawlish. "Perhaps he approached one of you for help?"

"Dawlish, clearly you have not been paying attention." Reprimanding Dawlish as if he were a first year, Minerva pointed out the flaws in his reasoning. "Since none of us have seen or corresponded with Professor Dumbledore, it should be patently obvious that he could not have asked us for help nor received it."

"In that case, you should not object to an examination of all your correspondence, since you have nothing to hide? The Aurors would of course be expected to search your offices and quarters, just to ensure that you did not withhold anything." proclaimed Dolores with an ugly smirk of victory. Filius and Pomona shared a quick glance and then turned to Minerva, half-afraid that they would be scrapping Dolores off the flagstones.

"Mr. Dawlish, Mr. Wright, Dolores," Minerva rose, her voice steady and forceful, "You have wasted our time long enough. Unless you have a warrant or probable cause, I refuse to give you permission to conduct any search. Mr. Wright, although the circumstances could have been better, it was good to see you again and gratifying to know that you have not abandoned the principles Hogwarts attempted to instill in you. Obviously, we were less successful with certain other students." Before Dolores or Dawlish could recover themselves enough to respond, Minerva quitted the room. Filius and Pomona muttered their goodbyes and emulated her.

"I insist that you come back here!" shouted Dolores, rushing to the doorway. To her supreme frustration and anger, the three professors were nowhere in sight, having utilized the secret passageway behind the tapestry depicting the legendary Avalon. Harrumphing, Dolores was forced to return to the Aurors alone.

"She won't forgive you for that Minerva," warned Filius as the trio emerged near one of the main staircases.

"Filius, at this point, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me."

"Well, it's too late now at any rate. Not that I didn't enjoy the look on her face," said Pomona. "Goodnight, Filius. Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, Pomona."

"Pleasant dreams," said Filius. While Pomona descended the stairs toward her suite of rooms located near the Hufflepuff dormitories, Minerva and Filius climbed the staircase to reach the seventh floor which housed the entrances to both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers. _Almost home,_ thought Minerva. Bidding Filius goodnight when they parted ways, Minerva quickened her pace to reach her quarters. During the better part of the interrogation, she had been distracted enough to regulate the headache to the back of her mind. Now, it had returned with a vengeance.

Upon entering her quarters, Minerva immediately loosened the tight knot at the nape of her neck and reworked her hair into a braid. The action eased the pain fractionally. Setting her glasses on the end table, Minerva laid down on her sofa.

"Nox," she murmured and the lights dimmed to a bearable level. Eyes closed, Minerva felt every individual swing of the trolls' clubs. For a few moments, she tried to breathe in and out deeply, hoping that the pain would decrease.

"Professor?" Reyna's soft tones roused Minerva enough to open her eyes and pull herself upright. With an unusually delicate bone structure and oval eyes, Reyna's appearance differed from the normal house-elf's in regards to her attire as well which had been formed into a dress shape rather than a simple toga. Upon arrival at Hogwarts, every professor was assigned a house-elf. Reyna had volunteered to act as Minerva's and the witch had always been exceedingly grateful for her service.

"Reyna, what is it?" queried Minerva. "Is something wrong?" A nonverbal Lumos restored the lights to their normal levels.

"Nothing is wrong, Professor. Reyna was informed that you did not eat very much at dinner and asked to bring you a tray," she said, pointing at a tray set atop the table by the window. An aroma of French onion soup drifted over to Minerva. "Are you alright, Professor?" the house-elf asked, peering at Minerva, "Reyna was told that you probably were not feeling very well."

"I'm sure your soup will do the trick, Reyna, thank you." _Unfortunately, I don't believe that it would be a good idea to try to eat anything at the moment. _"Would you mind ensuring that it stays warm? I will eat it later, when I'm a bit hungrier." Reyna gave her a disapproving glare and went over to the tray, retrieving something from it.

"You must take this, Professor. It will help," she ordered as she handed Minerva a small vial. Minerva recognized the contents immediately as a headache cure. _Severus must have noticed something during dinner. _Reyna cleared her throat, looking at Minerva pointedly when she hesitated. Dutifully, Minerva downed the contents of the vial. Almost instantaneously, the trolls quieted then disappeared entirely. _If there is one thing which I would never dispute about Severus, it is his ability in Potion making. Of course, he would be mortified to be thanked since it would force him to admit that he cared. _With the cessation of the pounding, the soup seemed much more appealing.

Moving to the table, Minerva noticed that Reyna had included a small loaf of fresh bread with the soup. As she devoured the soup and bread, Reyna set about straightening her rooms. Finished with the soup itself, Minerva toyed with the last piece of bread as she examined the chessboard on the table. Reyna had shifted it to make room for the tray. White and black were in the midst of a fierce battle for supremacy, frozen in time awaiting the resumption of play. _Which won't happen until Albus returns_. Exquisitely hand carved out of marble, the set had been a birthday gift from Albus. While most Wizarding chess set figures took delight in bashing their opponents, her pieces preferred to bow gracefully when beaten and retreat from the field. Albus had specifically requested the maker of the set to enchant them that way, knowing that Minerva would appreciate the more dignified version. Over the years, she and Albus had played hundreds of games. As a rule, Minerva won four out of five games with the ones she lost mostly due to an imaginative strategy or move on Albus' behalf. Despite decades of acquaintance, he still managed to surprise her.

"My lady?" entreated one of her white knights. When he had her attention, he continued, "I was instructed to bestow this upon you." He offered her a miniature scroll. Carefully, Minerva unrolled it to reveal a familiar script. _Bishop to H4. _

"Advance to H4," directed Minerva to Albus' remaining bishop, smiling a little at her friend's gesture. With a bob of his miter, the bishop took his position. Minerva thought for a moment, then instructed, "Rook, G3 to C3, please." Glad to be out of danger, the piece glided to its new location. With a smile, Minerva calculated how many moves she would need to place Albus in checkmate. Speaking to Albus' king, Minerva charged, "If you would be so kind as to inform your commander that it will be check in four moves and checkmate in seven should you see him again."

"I would be honored to, lady," replied the king, bowing to her. Suddenly, Minerva yawned as weariness overcame her despite the fact that it was much earlier than she usually went to bed. A suspicion entered her mind. _That was not a simple headache cure, was it Severus?_

"Reyna has turned down your bed, Professor."

"You knew Severus included a sleeping component in that potion, Reyna."

"Yes, Professor," admitted the house-elf, entirely unapologetic. "You have not been taking care of yourself so Reyna must use other methods. Master Albus asked me to make sure that you did not overexert yourself and become ill. Besides," Reyna paused, catching Minerva's gaze, "you take care of Hogwarts. Hogwarts will take care of you in return." Reyna waited until Minerva had readied herself for bed and slipped beneath the covers. Before she disappeared, Reyna snapped her fingers to extinguish the lights. _You always have to meddle, Albus_, thought Minerva as she drifted off to sleep. _Despite that and all your other eccentricities, I miss you, my friend. _


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Happy Holidays to all. I hope this update finds you well and enjoying your holiday with friends and family. I apologize for the delay (I did warn you), but I tried to make up for it in length. Thank you again to my reviewers who keep my fingers typing.

Author's Note 2: Anonymous reviews are now enabled. I had not realized that they were not until recently.

Chapter 10:

"Professor McGonagall, I'm glad to see that Dolores hasn't managed to run you off yet," said Professor Marchbanks as she entered Minerva's office.

"Professor Marchbanks, I apologize." Minerva immediately stood up and stepped around her desk to greet the head examiner. "It appears that I was misinformed. I thought that you were not due to arrive for another half an hour. Otherwise I would have met you at the gates."

"That new _Headmistress'_ fault, no doubt. She knows that we are accustomed to dealing with you and Dumbledore. No doubt, she wanted to reinforce the change of command." Waving off Minerva's apology, Griselda Marchbanks settled into the comfortable armchair Minerva had just conjured to replace the wooden seats in front of her desk. "What a disaster this year has been, forcing Dumbledore from Hogwarts and fostering that incompetent toady of his on the school. But, then, you probably know that better than I, Minerva." Helping herself to a ginger newt, Marchbanks leaned back in her chair.

"I'm afraid I do. The students have been in open revolt since Dumbledore left. Although one can hardly blame them, considering what Dolores has inflicted upon them this year," said Minerva, retaking her place behind her desk.

"Of course not." Marchbanks grinned, "Perhaps the staff is also in revolt as well, merely in a less obvious manner? I noticed that Dolores seemed to be unaware of many shortcuts around the school. Your poltergeist has caused a truly remarkable amount of damage as well. And I'm sure the students would not dare misbehave in your class."

"I will neither confirm nor deny any such revolt, Professor."

"I would not expect you to, Minerva. The question was rhetorical. And how many times have I asked you to call me Griselda?" Despite her wizened appearance, Minerva could still visualize the younger version of Griselda Marchbanks she had first encountered as a fifth year.

"I'll try to remember, Griselda. However, I'm afraid that it seems strange to call the woman who examined me in my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s by her first name," explained Minerva.

"Precisely why I want you to do so. Makes me feel younger." In a whisper, Griselda admitted, "Conversely, I don't mind Dolores thinking that I've got one foot in the grave. I pretend to be partially deaf so I can ignore whatever prattling she makes. I call it selective listening. Very effective and entertaining. She's absolutely petrified of offending us."

"As she should be. The O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations determine not only the students' abilities, but the fitness of Hogwarts as an educational institute which includes the Head's competence and effectiveness. She probably regrets that _Prophet_ article now."

"Oh, yes, I received a most heartfelt apology letter from the _Daily Prophet_ a week ago, emphasizing how incredibly repentant they are about the accusations printed last August. Apparently, their source was found to be unreliable."

"Astonishing," said Minerva sarcastically, "considering the high factual quality of the _Daily Prophet_'s reports over the past year.

"Isn't it? Just in time for the exams, too. How coincidental," concluded Griselda, one hand positioned on her chin in the classic pose suggesting deep thought. "In any case, how have you been, Minerva? I hope that you have not been running yourself into the ground."

"I won't pretend that I will not be grateful when the term ends, but I have managed well enough," replied Minerva.

"I don't envy you in the slightest Minerva, having to put up with that woman day after day." After a minute's reflection, Griselda continued, "I remember Dolores' exams. Barely managed to pass the required number to be accepted into the Ministry. I frankly can't understand how she was able to rise as far as she has. Her only talents appear to be sycophancy, coercion, and prejudice. She is hardly a suitable person to be placed in charge of such an august establishment as Hogwarts. Next to you and Dumbledore, the woman appears as fit to be Headmistress as the giant squid."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," answered Minerva.

"I've always held that Armando knew what he was doing when he recruited you to replace Dumbledore as the Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor. Some of the older examiners, you know, felt that you were a little too young, not to mention inexperienced considering that you had never taught at any Wizarding institution prior to Hogwarts." Marchbanks beamed proudly at Minerva, "I'm glad you proved them quite thoroughly wrong." _But, then, I always suspected you would go far,_ thought Griselda. _You had unmistakable talent even as a fifth year. _

Uncomfortable with Griselda's praise, Minerva thanked her and changed the subject. "Dumbledore mentioned that you were expecting another great-grandchild. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Elise and Devon are thrilled at the prospect and I must say that I anticipate spending much of the summer with them preparing for and directly after the birth. I think Devon secretly wants a boy, but it would be nice to have another girl to help Matilda wage war against the boys at family reunions." Minerva remembered that Matilda was Griselda's only female great-grandchild, born two years ago.

"If I recall correctly, Matilda is rather outnumbered at the moment."

"Five to one is hardly fair," remarked Griselda. "Have you heard from Dumbledore, by the way? I've tried sending owls, but they come back with their letters undelivered. I promise that whatever you say will remain in the strictest of confidences."

"I have not been in direct communication with him since he left. However, I have received messages from others that he is perfectly alright."

"As I expected," Griselda said decisively. "Still that eases my mind considerably. Regarding the examinations, Minerva, is there anything I should be aware of before they begin?"

"Other than Dolores?" Shaking her head slightly, Minerva continued, "I am not concerned about the students' performance in any subject with the exception of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I do not anticipate any unexpected problems or abnormal results. The Defense exams on the other hand…" A heavy sigh escaped Minerva. "Given the constant turnover in the Defense position, that particular subject has proven troublesome. Most years, Dumbledore has managed to find a reasonably effective teacher. This time, the fifth and seventh years had virtually no useful formal instruction for their exams."

"When I saw her choice of textbook, I could hardly believe my eyes. Slinkhard has no business writing a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook," scoffed Griselda. "He barely scraped an Acceptable in the subject. He cringed every time he had to cast a Defense spell. Utter and complete nonsense. No respectable Defense practitioner would even deign to own that piece of garbage, much less teach from it. How on earth did she get approval from Dumbledore to use it?"

"The Minister overruled him."

"What a surprise," Griselda drawled in a tone of great contempt. "Dolores mentioned something about students taking it upon themselves to learn Defense. She seemed determined to make it understood that she should not be blamed for their…how did she phrase it…'despicable attempt to undermine the effectiveness of her teaching and the sanctity of the Ministry-approved curriculum.'" Perfectly mimicking Dolores' intonations, the head examiner waited expectantly for Minerva's explanation.

"I would assume that she is referring to the D.A.," answered Minerva with a tiny proud smile.

"The D.A.?" Griselda prompted curiously.

"One of Miss Granger's ideas. Since Dolores was incapable of teaching them, a group of about twenty-five students of varying years formed a club and began practicing on their own with Mr. Potter as their instructor." At Griselda's inquisitive tilt of her head, Minerva clarified, "Potter's experiences enabled him to tutor them in defense spells. If he succeeded, I expect that you will be able to observe it in the exams."

"And what, may I ask, does D.A. stand for?"

"Dolores refused to educate the students in practical defense because Cornelius fears the Dumbledore was building an army out of the student population to challenge the Ministry," noted Minerva.

"I already knew that. What does it have to do with anything?" demanded Griselda, her curiosity fueling her impatience.

"The students named their little study group 'Dumbledore's Army.' Cornelius and Umbridge were both present when Harry revealed that fact. It led to their charge of treachery against Dumbledore." Laughing merrily, Griselda imagined the panicked look which must have appeared on Cornelius' face.

"Oh dear Merlin," gasped the witch when she regained some control over her lungs, "I would have paid a good number of galleons to see that. Cornelius must have thought his worst fears were coming true."

"He did turn a remarkable shade of white," mused Minerva.

"What did Dumbledore think of it? The name, I mean?"

"I believe he was surprised by it." Minerva withheld mentioning that Albus had been momentarily rendered speechless by the students' gesture. She doubted any of the students realized how much it had touched Albus to know that they supported him wholeheartedly. _It simply proved what I've been telling him for years. _

"I'm glad the students recognized the ridiculousness of the Ministry's crusade against him. And, should the chance present itself, you may commend those students upon their dedication to their studies. With the utmost discretion, of course." With a regretful glance at the clock, Griselda got to her feet. "Well, Minerva, it has been a pleasure speaking with you, but I'm afraid that these old bones need their rest. I will see you at breakfast tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll find my own way back to my guest quarters. Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, Professor Marchbanks," replied Minerva who had risen as well and followed the venerable witch to the door. Watching the petite examiner progress down the hallway, Minerva considered how spirited and strong the witch remained despite her age. _It is reassuring to know that Dolores will be unable to influence Professor Marchbanks and through her, the other examiners. At least the students are guaranteed an unbiased examination. _The thought quieted some of Minerva's unease about the effects on her students' futures from the Ministry's interference at Hogwarts. Returning to her work, Minerva resolved to ensure that the exams were uninterrupted by conflict within or without the school. _Even if that means tolerating Dolores and holding my tongue._

Perhaps fortunately for Minerva's resolution to avoid any further major confrontations with Dolores during the exam weeks, the presence of the examiners considerably lessened Dolores' objection practices and utterances. With the exception of a flock of flamingos and a hybrid desk-zebra, the Transfiguration exams went fairly smoothly for both the fifth and seventh years. Potter created quite a stir when he acceded to Professor Tofty's request to demonstrate his Patronus, but aside from that the other professors and examiners reported nothing out of the ordinary. Altogether, the first week of exams passed in relative calm.

_I should have known it wouldn't last,_ thought Minerva late Friday evening. Someone, Minerva strongly suspected one of her Gryffindors, had loosed another niffler in Dolores' office. The Headmistress' shrieks had brought students and professors alike running to witness the scene. Not surprisingly, none of professors had volunteered to help until Dolores had ordered their assistance. The niffler, sensing imminent capture, had darted into the crowd, escaped down the stairs, and gained its freedom by whipping through the open entryway doors. Despite Minerva's general approval of the students' actions towards Dolores, she disapproved of using methods which could be so easily connected to one of the professors. _Especially one Dolores has made clear that she wants gone from Hogwarts. Of course, the perpetrator probably didn't think it through and realize that Dolores would associate any magical creature with Rubeus. _Dolores had interrogated Rubeus in her office for over an hour before letting him go. On his way out, Minerva had caught him. She had pulled him into the empty antechamberoff the Entrance Hall and advised him to send a message to Dumbledore immediately. _"If you have to flee Hagrid, you need a plan in place. Send Dumbledore a Patronus as soon as possible."_

Working in her quarters, Minerva edited the final question for her third year exams and read over the entire examination. Satisfied, she created copies for each of her students from the original. Minerva rewrote her questions every year, but she usually had the exams ready well before June. This year, due to Dolores, Minerva had been forced to leave them to the absolute last minute. _Yet another example of Dolores' appalling influence on the school and my life. _

A glimmer of silver attracted her attention. Coalescing into a stable form, Alastor's voice sounded from his pit bull Patronus, "Minerva, the Order received Hagrid's message and Dumbledore intends to send Lupin to meet with you to discuss the situation. As soon as he reports for guard duty, Fawkes will bring him to Hogwarts. Report immediately if there are any problems." His message delivered, the dog disappeared.

"Expecto Patronum." Lifting her spirits a little, the dignified silver tabby crouched at Minerva's feet. "Inform Alastor that I foresee no hindrances to Lupin's visit." Leaping up onto the table and then out the window, the tabby obeyed her mistress' command. _It will be good to see Remus, again. I'm glad Albus responded so quickly. _

While awaiting Remus' arrival, Minerva withdrew and disenchanted the most recent Order reports from their hiding place amid her crowded bookshelves. Unless one knew the counter-spell, they resembled old issues of _Transfiguration Today_. Minerva reviewed their contents, but, considering that Riddle had very carefully not taken any action which would reveal his return to the community at large, they mostly consisted of speculation and guard duty logs. The scarcity of information, even including Severus' contributions, prevented her and the Order from developing anything more than a vague strategy. _If Albus were here, he would probably tell me to that this is merely the calm before the storm. _

As if in answer to her thoughts, a burst of flame suddenly exploded a couple of meters from her. Singing happily, Fawkes swooped towards her. Automatically, Minerva offered him her arm on which to alight. He crooned as she stroked his feathers, addressing the man Fawkes had unceremoniously abandoned on her carpet, "Good evening, Remus. Pleasant trip?"

"Good evening, Minerva. Phoenix flight is always an exceptional way to travel," replied Remus, inclining his head at Fawkes. "Thank you, Fawkes. Dumbledore started to suggest that I simply use a secret passageway and Disillusionment charm, but Fawkes made it known that he would provide transportation." The phoenix hummed his agreement.

"I'm pleased to see you as well, Fawkes," responded Minerva, conjuring an appropriate perch for Albus' familiar. _Although Fawkes chose Albus rather than the other way around. _With a soft trill of thanks, Fawkes removed himself from her arm.

"It's sometimes difficult to distinguish who belongs to whom," Remus remarked.

"Very true. Please sit down Remus. I was about to order tea and something to eat. Would you care for anything?"

Taking a seat in front of the fireplace, Remus said, "I'll have whatever you are having. There is no need to order anything special."

"Reyna," called Minerva. With a hushed crack, the house-elf appeared.

"What can Reyna do for you, Professor?" asked the house-elf.

"I would like a pot of Earl Gray and some of those rolls we had for breakfast if there are any left, please."

"Reyna will find some, Professor. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you, Reyna." With a respectful dip of her head, the house-elf disappeared. Minerva seated herself opposite Remus, scrutinizing the young wizard carefully. Increased gray in his hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes revealed the affects of stress due to their current circumstances. However, his frame seemed a little sturdier. _Probably the result of Molly Weasley's mothering and excellent cooking. _

"Your tea and rolls, Professor," Reyna announced as she returned with a tray, placing it on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Reyna," said Remus, politely. Minerva concealed a smile as his stomach growled in response to the enticing aromas drifting from the tray.

"Reyna is happy to serve Professor Lupin as well as Professor McGonagall," answered Reyna with a bow.

Startled by the title and obeisance, Remus said, "I'm no longer a Professor here, Reyna."

"Reyna is aware of that, _Professor_ Lupin, but the title is given to all rightful professors of Hogwarts whether they are currently teaching or not," Reyna declared firmly. "It is an honor to be called a Hogwarts' professor. You have earned that honor and Reyna would not insult you by not using the proper title. In the case of a certain other person at Hogwarts…Reyna will not grant _her_ that distinction." With that, Reyna snapped her fingers and disappeared. Flushed with embarrassment, Remus looked rather stunned by this definitive pronouncement.

"Reyna is quite right, Remus," confirmed Minerva. "You deserve the title." _You are always so surprised when someone recognizes your true character, Remus, instead of judging you based upon your condition. Do you truly believe that you are somehow unworthy of such respect? _"Dumbledore would never have hired you unless he believed you were and I would certainly have never supported his decision if I had any misgivings about your suitability as a Hogwarts' professor."

"Thank you , Pro-," Remus caught himself, remembering that she had specifically given him permission to address her by her first name during his tenure. Despite that and a year working alongside her, he continued to think of her as Professor McGonagall. _Old habits die hard,_ he thought. _Whenever I ran into her after hours, I still expected her to demand why I wasn't in my common room._ "Thank you, Minerva." Choosing one of the rolls, he bit into it to discover that is was filled with sausage. After a few minutes of quietly sipping tea and nibbling at the rolls, Remus asked, "How are things at Hogwarts? I understand the situation has deteriorated since Dumbledore left?"

"'Deteriorated' is an understatement, Remus. Dolores is using every weapon at her command to try to subdue the students and to solidify her hold on the Headship. Neither the students nor the staff has any intention of allowing that to happen however which only results in increased chaos."

"Kingsley told us that Dawlish and Wright were here last week. What did they want?" prodded Remus.

"They were requested by Dolores to _interrogate _the Heads of Houses," said Minerva curtly.

"You're not serious?" Remus questioned in disbelief.

"Apparently, Dolores believed that we could be intimidated into giving away Dumbledore's location and activities." Minerva's lips were set in a hard line. "She went so far as to suggest that the Aurors search our offices and quarters in order to ensure that we had not been in contact with Dumbledore." Remus' expression betrayed his shock and indignation at the Dolores' insolence and disrespect. "Needless to say, I refused to grant them permission and they were forced to leave quite empty-handed. I didn't know what to be insulted by more; the idea of having my private rooms searched or that I would be so foolish as to leave incriminating documents lying around."

"I wish I could have seen you put that woman in her place, Minerva," Remus grinned a bit wolfishly. "Harry described your inspection to me over Christmas break. It sounded…magnificent."

"I merely refused to let her disrupt the lesson, Remus. The woman kept trying to interrupt with that horrid little cough of hers." _Although I must admit, it was exceptionally satisfying to treat the woman like a disobedient first year in front of the fifth years. _

"Of course, Minerva." said Remus, his tone laced with a hints of sarcasm and amusement. Remus had relished Harry's recitation of any confrontations between McGonagall and Umbridge. While he had occasionally bemoaned his Head of House's sternness as a student, Remus took a great deal of pleasure in the knowledge that McGonagall had undoubtedly put Umbridge in her place multiple times over the year. Ever since the passage of that piece of anti-werewolf legislation she sponsored, Remus had found it next to impossible to obtain work. Adding that to the Ministry Decrees and her treatment of Harry, Remus savored any discomfort or humiliation inflicted upon Dolores Umbridge. "I heard about the Weasley twins' fireworks and swamp from Molly and Arthur. They received an…interesting welcome home as I understand it. I think Molly may have temporarily deafened them, especially when she discovered that they had already signed a contract for a shop on Diagon Alley."

"I'm not surprised at Molly's reaction. If I were to count the number of owls I sent home over the past seven years…" Minerva shook her head. "However, their business has certainly benefited from Dolores' presence. Most of her classes are half-empty from the students' use of those pills they invented. She still has not managed to remove the swamp yet."

"I assume you have not offered to help?"

"If the woman cannot undo a students' spell, she should not be here, let alone as Headmistress," replied Minerva. "Argus has been kept busy ferrying students across it." _It is a rather outstanding bit of spellwork. It appears that they were actually paying more attention in class than I thought. _"By the way, Remus, where did they come up with the funds to lease a shop?"

"According to Arthur, who was informed of this by Ron, Harry gave them his Triwizard winnings. I ran into the twins the other day and they said Harry told them that everyone would need more laughs in the near future," explained Remus, his pride in Harry's action unmistakable. _Nicely done, Potter,_ thought Minerva, feeling quite proud of the young man herself. _It seems you inherited more than just Lily's eyes. _

"I suppose I will know who to blame then when their products start showing up in classroom," replied Minerva dryly. Remus appeared dismayed to not have considered this possibility before he spoke. Minerva allowed him to fret for a few seconds before saying, "I trust you will inform the twins of that particular consideration. And notify them that if any of their products ever find their way into my lessons, I will be _most_ displeased."

"I'll pass the message along," Remus assured her quickly.

"See that you do." Fixing herself another cup of tea, Minerva decided that it was time to get to the purpose of the meeting. "What do you need from me, Remus? Or rather, what does Dumbledore need from me? Evidently, it goes beyond Hagrid's current predicament. Dumbledore could simply ask Fawkes to watch over him and transport him out of harm's way if the situation demands it. What else is going on?"

"You're right about his escape route for Hagrid. Besides that, well, Dumbledore is concerned about what will happen in the next few months."

"Remus, I would think that is obvious." Remus sighed heavily, running a hand across his face.

"Until Voldemort reveals himself, it seems likely that the Ministry will remain in charge of Hogwarts and, of course, continue to deny his return. I'm sure you are aware of what that means – Voldemort has the chance to gain footholds in the Ministry and in the general community without any serious resistance. The Order can only do so much without Ministry support. By the time the Ministry involves itself, it could be too late to mount an effective defense. We need to get Umbridge and Fudge out of the way. Since Dumbledore can't be in contact with you himself…"

"He sent you," surmised Minerva. "He wants to know my thoughts on the subject." From his perch, Fawkes called to her. Rising, Minerva walked over to the phoenix and idly began stroking him. _When Albus left, we knew that communication would be unwise as it would jeopardize my position. The note about the chess match doesn't count as useful communications. Unfortunately, that plays directly into both the Ministry's and Riddle's hands although they are probably more or less unaware of it. It makes it very difficult to coordinate our plans. _

Remus watched the Deputy Headmistress as she contemplated her reply. Over the years, Remus had slowly realized that Minerva's influence extended beyond Hogwarts' matters. If the Headmaster existed in the spotlight of the Wizarding world, Minerva lingered a step behind in the shadows, complementing him in every respect. Yet, she appeared perfectly content to be perceived as nothing more than his faithful second-in-command. _However, Dumbledore clearly holds her in high esteem_,thought Remus. _He balked at creating any concrete plans without at least consulting her first although he didn't come right out and say that. Either that or he believes she has already implemented a strategy of her own. _

"I accidentally overheard Severus mention Jonathan Ashford to Dumbledore at the last meeting. For some reason, Dumbledore immediately connected him to you," remarked Remus.

"I was wondering how long Severus would refrain from telling Albus that piece of information," said Minerva. "I've known Jonathan Ashford for a long time, Remus. He's a good friend."

"A friend who happens to be the preeminent advocate of Wizarding Europe. And who opposed legislation which Dolores Umbridge has managed to get passed," stated Remus. "Why would Severus mention him to Dumbledore?"

"I suppose because Severus wanted Dumbledore to be at least somewhat forewarned in case of certain eventualities." Minerva continued before Remus had a chance to reply, "Jonathan Ashford could very well help us get rid of Dolores Umbridge and possibly force Cornelius to cease his campaign against Dumbledore. You, and Dumbledore, will have to be satisfied with that much information."

"The Headmaster wouldn't approve of what you have planned, would he?" guessed Remus.

"Probably not." _He would not agree with either the direct challenge to the Ministry or with the risk to me personally. _Throughout the year, she and Albus had periodically discussed possible means of dealing with Ministry. Albus had wanted to refrain from taking any action that could potentially divide the Wizarding community into factions. While Minerva understood his reasoning, she now believed that a line had to be drawn. Even if it divided the public in two, the risk presented by the Ministry, through the abuse of Ministerial power and denial of Riddle's return, had to be dealt with sooner rather than later. _The Ministry and the public will keep their heads buried in the sand until Riddle and his followers kill openly if we continue to do nothing. To say nothing of the abuse of power by both Cornelius and Dolores which undermines the very ideals upon which our community is based. _

"What should I tell him?" asked Remus.

"To keep his focus on the Order and Riddle and leave Hogwarts to me." Remus cocked his head at her so she elaborated, "During the first war, we agreed to split our responsibilities. Dumbledore headed the Order and provided assistance to the Ministry. I dealt with Hogwarts. Naturally, we still worked together on both fronts, but the arrangement allowed us to manage the situation more effectively. The problem of Dolores Umbridge is a Hogwarts' issue; therefore it falls under my purview."

"In other words, he is not to interfere in the situation unless absolutely necessary," concluded Remus, somewhat uneasy at the prospect of Minerva acting without the support of the Order and Dumbledore. _How many people,_ he thought, _would make such a request of Albus Dumbledore and realistically expect him to accede to it? However, she hasn't given him much choice by refusing to reveal exact details. Severus obviously knows something, enough that he felt the need to alert Dumbledore, but he either doesn't know the whole plan or has agreed to keep it to himself. _At one point in his life, Remus would have found the idea of his Gryffindor Head of House trusting Severus Snape far-fetched and outrageous. When he interacted with them as an adult, Remus found their relationship puzzling. They bickered almost constantly, yet Severus tolerated and listened to Minerva more than any other person on staff with the possible exception of the Headmaster.

"Precisely," said Minerva crisply.

"You will be careful, Minerva?" inquired Remus, rising and coming to stand next to her. "If something should happen to you…" The thought caused him to suppress a shudder. _If she is hurt…or killed_... Remus didn't want to entertain ideas of what the reactions of the Order and the Wizarding community would be, not to mention Dumbledore's response. _All of us would be devastated but Dumbledore…and if the Ministry was somehow involved or responsible..._

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Remus. And you can remind Albus of that fact if he starts worrying," declared Minerva. Deliberately changing the conversation to distract Remus, she asked, "How are things at Grimmauld Place?"

"Uneventful. Sirius is going stir-crazy from being copped up inside, but we've finally managed to decontaminate all of the rooms of the more dangerous pests and magical paraphernalia. Most of the Order drops by at least once a week outside of meetings. Nymphadora usually comes around when her schedule allows to help keep Sirius occupied." At Tonks' name, Remus' cheeks pinked slightly, much to Minerva's amusement. _I do believe that Albus was right. _A couple of months ago, Albus had told her he suspected the pair harbored crushes on each other. _I think they could be good for one another. Remus certainly deserves some happiness._ "How has Harry been handling the past few weeks?"

"Well enough, Remus. Fortunately, the fifth years have been focused on their exams to the exclusion of virtually everything else."

"Then Dolores hasn't inflected any sort of retribution for the D.A. club?"

"Nothing of which I am aware."

"That's good. How exactly did Umbridge find out about the club?" asked Remus.

"One of the participants, whose mother works at the Ministry, betrayed them."

"Probably under pressure to prove her loyalty to Fudge and Umbridge." Remus sighed, drifting back over to his armchair and sinking into it. At Fawkes' soft trill, Minerva realized that she had stopped petting him at some point. With a small indulgent smile, she resumed stroking the phoenix who responded by closing his eyes in contentment. A faint lilting hum wafted through the room. Lulled by the phoenix's song, Remus relaxed deeper into the cushions. He murmured, "This is much more comfortable than the Ministry floor," before his eyes drifted shut.

_I think I will just let him sleep. Knowing Remus, he has probably volunteered to take more than his fair share of the guard duty in order to allow others to rest or be with their families. Fawkes can return him to Grimmauld Place in the morning. _A flick of her wand gradually transfigured the armchair into a bed, transforming in such a way as to move Remus into a sleeping position in the process. Summoning a couple of blankets from a cabinet, Minerva levitated them to cover Remus fully. As an afterthought, she removed his boots with yet another flick. The younger man slept on, completely undisturbed.

"Goodnight Remus. Goodnight Fawkes." With one last stroke of Fawkes' head, Minerva checked to make sure that Remus was sleeping soundly and quietly exited her quarters. Instructing Maeve to ensure that no one entered her quarters until she returned, even with the correct password, Minerva proceeded to meet Filius for rounds.

By the time she and Filius had thoroughly inspected the entire castle, it was well after midnight. _Icing the staircases…do they have no common sense?_ Although supportive of the anti-Umbridge activities, the professors had rapidly discovered that the students frequently disregarded or forgot basic safety concerns in their zeal. Therefore, the staff kept a sharp eye out for pranks that could end up causing serious harm to other students. _And it really would not help the situation if Dolores Umbridge wound up with a broken neck. Pity. _While neither she nor Filius had difficulty undoing the more dangerous tricks, the sheer number of them and size of the castle required a great deal of time. Halfway done, they had received a request from Poppy, via one of the Ravenclaw prefects, to come to the hospital wing to help her reverse a spell gone awry on Joshua Langley, a Ravenclaw seventh year. Apparently, he had been practicing for his N.E.W.T.s and had misspoken the incantation. In his panic, he had tried to reverse it, but had only managed to exacerbate the problem. It had taken over an hour and a half to carefully restore Langley to his original state. _It would have gone faster if he could have told us exactly what he said._ Every time Langley had opened his mouth, he had emitted another type of animal sound including roars, cheeps, hisses, snarls, squawks, and barks. Antlers had sprouted from his head while his skin had flashed through every color of the rainbow. Luckily, some of his year mates had assisted him to the hospital wing before he could inflict further damage upon himself.

Entering her quarters as silently as possible, Minerva was glad to see that Remus was still sleeping soundly. _Time for me to emulate his example, _Minerva thought, _I'm dead on my feet. _Minerva readied herself for bed almost mechanically, barely remembering to set an early alarm. Despite the fact that tomorrow was Saturday, she needed to speak to the house-elves about the annual summer housekeeping and the best time to do so was in the early morning before breakfast. _What do I have to do tomorrow? Visit the kitchens, finish the first year exams…make sure there are enough supplies for the O.W.L. Potions exam…_…Sleep overcame her before she could complete the list.

"Professor!" Gasping for breath, Angelina Johnson flung the door to Minerva's office open. "Professor!"

"What are you doing out at this hour Johnson?" demanded Minerva sharply. She paused, one hand poised over Romilda Vane's Transfiguration final. As the Astronomy O.W.L. practical was currently in progress, Minerva had chosen to not retire until it finished just in case of any unexpected problems.

"Never mind that, Professor!" Angelina's agitation caused her to be somewhat impertinent. "Umbridge is outside with several other people. I saw them from the dormitory windows. They're heading towards Hagrid's hut. You need to come right now."

"What?" In a split second, Angelina found herself almost sprinting along behind her Head of House as McGonagall strode down the hallway towards the nearest staircase. "How many people, Johnson?"

"Four, five…I don't know, Professor," they reached the ground floor, "Kenneth said he saw them arrive around eight. He said they were Aurors." Minerva halted at the front doors. _Stop and think Minerva! Don't prove Severus right about Gryffindors being impulsive and downright foolhardy. _Whipping out her wand, Minerva produced four blazing orbs of green, blue, yellow, and purple.

With a swing of her arm for each orb, Minerva called out, "Severus, Filius, Pomona, Poppy." The orbs zoomed away to seek out the aforementioned individuals. Upon finding their target, the fiery spheres would bring them to the Entrance Hall. If any of the four were fortunate or unfortunate enough to be sleeping, the orbs would wake them with a siren. Task accomplished, Minerva faced Angelina. "You are to stay right here, Miss Johnson. I've summoned the other three Heads of Houses and Madame Pomfrey. When they get here, you are to tell them what has happened." Suddenly, a roar sounded from outside. "Do you understand me, Miss Johnson? Wait here and do _not_ interfere."

Barely registering Angelina's frantic nods, Minerva swung the doors open. Air rushed across her face as she raced down the steps. Minerva shoved her wand back into her sleeves, knowing better than to approach Aurors with a drawn wand, especially when they were already firing spells. Aurors were trained to respond to drawn wand as a threat automatically in a battle. Jets of red light lanced out into the darkness, momentarily illuminating the ongoing confrontation. _Just hold on Rubeus! I'm not moving fast enough! What the hell do you think you're doing! _

"**How dare****you!"** she shouted, **"How **_**dare **_**you!" **Anger pumped through her veins as the Stunners continued to rebound off Hagrid's form. Blind to everything else, Minerva focused on Hagrid. _Get out of here Rubeus! Just go!_

"**Leave him alone! **_**Alone, **_**I say!**" _Do not draw your wand! Force them to listen to you! _**"On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such – " **

Instinct saved her. Four Stunners ricocheted off her shield as she threw herself to one side. Immediately rolling to her feet, Minerva kept her shield up, prepared to defend against any further attacks. _What the hell! _Three of the Aurors got up having been forced to dive for cover from the rebounded Stunners. Breathing heavily, Minerva waited in the shocked silence. For a few moments, the Aurors and Dolores starred at her, completely distracted from their pursuit of Hagrid.

"What is the meaning of this?" Minerva challenged. _Keep their attention focused on you so Hagrid can escape! _"I demand to know what exactly you think you are doing!" Behind the Aurors and Dolores, Hagrid edged his way back into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. _They're never catch him in the forest. _Before he disappeared entirely, he looked anxiously at her. She glared at him for a second and he vanished into the trees. "An explanation, now!"

"It's really very simple, Minerva," gloated Dolores triumphantly. "These Aurors are here to take that half-breed into custody. The Ministry cannot allow such a dangerous individual to remain free when he is known to be loyal to a traitor. Who knows what he might do to help Dumbledore overthrow the Ministry?" Shaking, Minerva gripped her wand tightly, causing sparks to scorch the grass by her feet. Two of the Aurors instantly pointed their wands at her.

"Put you wand away, Professor," directed one of the Aurors who Minerva recognized as Franklin Moore as he muttered "Lumos." Minerva was able to distinguish Yale Castor, Mark Davidson, Gavin Dawlish, and Patrick Mills who had pushed himself into a sitting position on the ground where Hagrid had thrown him. Moving slowly with enlarged gestures, Minerva sheathed her wand although she maintained her shield.

"On what charge?" she demanded.

"Treason," answered Dawlish. He glanced over his shoulder and cried, "He's gone!" As one, the other Aurors and Dolores spun around to discover Hagrid's absence. "Davidson, Castor, go after him!" When the pair hesitated, uneasy about venturing into the Forbidden Forest at night, he yelled, "Now! Unless you want to lose your jobs!" The two obeyed.

"This is your fault!" shrieked Dolores, pointing at Minerva. "You allowed him to escape!"

Plastering a fake incredulous expression upon her face, Minerva replied, "I believe you can blame yourself and the Aurors for that, Dolores. If five _Ministry_ Aurors and the _Ministry-appointed_ Headmistress can't keep track of their quarry…what exactly do you expect me to do? Do your job for you?" Minerva watched Dolores' face swell and redden with rage. Pure hatred marked Dolores' toady features as she stared at the Deputy Headmistress. Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva noted the approach of the other Heads and Poppy.

"Dawlish!" Dolores screeched, "Arrest Minerva McGonagall on charges of aiding a, no two, fugitives and treachery against the Ministry!"

"What…I…Madam Umbridge?" stammered Dawlish who was obviously shocked by the order. His eyes shifted back and forth between Umbridge and Minerva rapidly. _It's good to know you have been entirely brainwashed, Dawlish,_ thought Minerva. Evidently, the idea of treating Minerva McGonagall as a criminal had passed some personal threshold of acceptability.

"You heard me, Dawlish! Arrest her!" Attuned to their individual magical signitures, Minerva felt more than heard or saw, Filius, Pomona, and Severus arrange themselves slightly behind her. Dawlish continued to stutter incomprehensibly. "Arrest her!" repeated Dolores.

"_What_ is going on?" asked Severus from her right.

"I apologize for disturbing your rest. I was informed of strangers upon the grounds and then this commotion began," Minerva said. "As you heard, Dolores was just insisting that Dawlish take me into custody on charges of treason. Poppy, if you would be so kind as to attend to Mr. Mills since his compatriots have not seen to his health yet." Bustling over to the Auror, Poppy started examining him.

"Really. How interesting," replied Severus in a tone of absolute unconcern.

"You are aware that the Astronomy O.W.L. practical is taking place at the moment, Dolores?" inquired Filius. "I do hope this hubbub has not been detrimental to their performance."

"Professor Marchbanks won't be pleased to have the exam interpreted," said Pomona with a shake of her head.

"I'll take Mr. Mills up to the hospital wing and get him straightened out," announced Poppy, supporting the Auror.

"Thank you, Poppy. You have no immediate cause or a warrant on which to arrest me, Dolores, as Dawkins clearly recognizes. Now, if you are quite done with these theatrics, I am returning to the castle." With that, Minerva turned around and strode up the lawn to the entrance. The other professors followed her example, forcing Dolores and the Aurors to scurry along behind them.

"Wait a minute, Minerva!" cried Dolores. Minerva ignored her. "Dawlish, Moore, you heard me! Arrest her!"

"Madam Umbridge, we cannot arrest her without a warrant unless she is actively breaking the law or confesses," Moore informed Dolores.

"Then I will get a warrant! I order you to detain her here until it arrives," declared Dolores as the crowd of students and the remaining staff parted to allow the group into entryway. Choosing two students at random, Poppy instructed them to help her get Auror Mills to the hospital wing and began climbing the stairs.

"Professor McGonagall?" One hand on the barrister, Minerva paused and pivoted to face Moore. "I have to request that you stay here for the time being."

"Very well, Mr. Moore. Students, I expect all of your to return to your dormitories immediately." Slowly, reluctantly, the students dispersed up towards the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers or down to the Hufflepuff and Slytherin rooms. A few, however, promptly hid themselves within hearing distance, including all of the Gryffindor prefects and Harry Potter.

Having descended the stairs, Professor Marchbanks said imperiously, "Be assured Dolores that I will be speaking to you about disrupting the exam. It shows a distinct lack of respect for Professor Tofty's and my time." The chief examiner scrutinized Dolores with a very critical eye, "Highly disrespectful, Dolores."

"I...I apologize, Professor Marchbanks," spluttered Dolores still puffed up and red in the face. "I must Floo the Ministry at once." Stomping off in the direction of her office, Dolores contemplated Cornelius' delight when she informed him that, although the great oaf had escaped, the larger thorn of Minerva McGonagall would soon be extracted from Hogwarts. The Ministry would select an appropriately loyal Deputy Head to replace McGonagall. With McGonagall gone, Dolores anticipated an end to the resistance to her rule. By the time she stuck her head in the fire, her vicious smile revealed her feelings of utter triumph. _Dumbledore – gone, the half-breed – gone, McGonagall – gone! Hogwarts has been saved from the likes of them – blood traitors, Mudbloods, half-breeds - for the truly deserving loyal witches and wizards of pure-blood!_

After Dolores departed, Aurora spoke up, "What exactly is going on, Professor McGonagall? I saw the Stunners from my windows." The rest of the staff, except for her fellow Heads echoed Aurora's inquiry with varying degrees of distress apparent on their faces.

"I have been accused of treason against the Ministry. However, Dolores conveniently forgot that an arrest on that charge requires a warrant, immediate threat, or a confession. No doubt, she is the midst of convincing the Minister to issue just such a warrant by now. In the meantime, I'm sure the Aurors will be happy to explain the situation to you fully." Expectant, the staff directed their attention onto the Dawlish and Moore who Minerva was pleased to see appeared rather unnerved by the prospect. While staff bombarded the Aurors, Minerva exchanged a glance with Severus who moved closer to her. "Severus," she said in an undertone, "I need you to send a Patronus to Mr. Ashford. If he moves quickly, he might be able to get here before I'm forced to leave. Someone will have to meet him at the gates…"

"I will be waiting for him. Will he recognize my Patronus?" For once, Severus' voice held none of his usual ironic sarcasm or veiled insinuations.

"Yes. I told him that, in case I was unable to contact him myself, he could expect a message from you."

"Try to stall as long as you can, Minerva."

"I will." Severus started heading towards the doors and halted as she added, "And Severus, inform the Order when I leave the grounds. It would be best if the wards did not remain without the proper management for any significant length of time." Severus nodded, understanding the subtext easily. _In other words, I am not to tell the Headmaster until he will not be able to interfere and to remind him that the safety of the students could very well depend on his presence at Hogwarts once Minerva is gone. How very Slytherin of you, Minerva._ Discreetly, he made his way to the doors and out into the night. He immediately cast his Patronus, watching it disappear at a headlong gallop. Arriving at the gates, he leaned against one of the pillars to wait for Ashford.

Meanwhile, Minerva scanned the Entrance Hall suspecting that several of her Gryffindors had disobeyed her command to return to their common room and had stashed themselves out of sight. A flicker of black robes drew her gaze to the doors to the Great Hall.

Lightly placing a hand on Filius' and then Pomona's shoulders to attract their attention, she said softly, "Could you keep the Aurors distracted for a little while longer? And Dolores as well if she returns?"

"Of course, Minerva," replied Pomona. She and Filius advanced on the two Aurors, pelting them with any question that came to mind or diverting the conversation into tangents upon magical theory. With the Aurors struggling to keep up with the various professors, Minerva managed to slip into the Great Hall undetected. The three students scuttled away from the doors as Minerva gently tugged them shut.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, did you not hear my instructions earlier?"

"Professor, we couldn't just –" began Hermione. The boys made similar starts of explanations which were aborted as well at Minerva's sharp glare.

"Never mind. Potter, as you have no doubt observed, circumstances are changing. With my absence, Professor Snape will be the only Order member remaining at Hogwarts." When she continued, her eyes were locked on Harry. "I am aware of your…dislike for Professor Snape, Mr. Potter. Nevertheless he has earned both the Headmaster's trust and mine. Should something serious occur, I want your word that you will not attempt to take matters into your own hands and inform Professor Snape immediately."

"Professor, I don't –"

"Listen to me closely, Potter. I will not repeat myself. Professor Snape is by no means a congenial person and I understand how his behavior towards you might cause you to distrust him."

"He hates me, Professor," Harry interjected bluntly. "Especially after the Occlumency lessons."

"Do not interrupt me, Potter. Regardless of how true that may or may not be, Potter, that does not change his responsibilities as a member of the Order and as a Hogwarts professor." She swept a powerful stare over the trio, saying, "In the past, you three have seen fit to address problems yourself rather than notifying and letting those older and more experienced handle the situation. You have been very lucky to escape serious injury or worse. _I expect you to refrain from continuing this pattern of behavior._ Is that _completely_ understood?"

"Professor, we never asked to get into trouble," said Hermione. "It just seemed to happen." The two boys nodded emphatically, looking a little affronted.

"Miss Granger, I recall a troll in the dungeon, the stone, the chamber of secrets – do I need to continue?"

"Professor, we had to do _something_!" argued Harry.

"Mr. Potter, did it never occur to you to bring it to the attention of an adult and allow them to handle the situation?"

"We tried but –" protested Ronald.

"Mr. Weasley, you made what might be termed ineffective and thoroughly half-hearted attempts. In your first year, you chased after the troll yourselves instead of alerting a teacher. In your second year, you chose to go to Professor Lockheart for help. I would think you recognize the futility of the choice."

"No one else speaks Parseltongue, but me Professor!"

"True, Potter, but did it occur to you that fighting a Basilisk might be beyond your skill and that it would enhance your chances of saving Miss Weasley's life if you had a witch or wizard who was skilled in Defense with you." Both boys resembled fish as their mouths opened and closed. Minerva gave a frustrated sigh. _Teenagers, always under the impression that it is them against the world. _"I do not belittle your accomplishments, but, as I said, you have been exceedingly lucky. In the future, I suggest that you remember that there is strength in numbers and to stop and consider your options before rushing into danger. Whether you like it or not, Potter, Professor Snape will be your Order contact when I leave. Your word, Mr. Potter, that you will speak to him and allow him time to consult the Order to determine the appropriate action."

"But what if –" She glared at him over her glasses and Harry's protests died on his lips.

Minerva pressed Harry, "Mr. Potter, I do not have much time. Your word to consult and heed the Order, through Professor Snape if necessary, should anything else happen or should you have another vision."

"I promise, Professor," yielded Harry.

"Good." She glanced towards the closed doors as the volume of voices increased suddenly and said quickly, "I daresay Dolores has returned. Listen to me, all three of you, the best thing you and the rest of Gryffindor can do now is finish your exams and refrain from provoking Dolores Umbridge any further now that I will not be here to provide any sort of buffer. Conduct yourselves as I would wish you to and be an example of the best of what Gryffindor house can produce."

"Professor, will you be okay?" ventured Hermione worriedly.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, I have no intention of letting that Ministry puppet get the better of me. Now, I want you to keep yourselves hidden until you can return to Gryffindor tower unnoticed." Waiting until she saw three nods of assent, Minerva pulled one door open enough to slip through. A quiet "Good luck, Professor" from Hermione followed her out.

"Where is she?" screeched Dolores at Dawlish and Moore.

"I'm right here, Dolores. Perhaps you should have your eyes examined," Minerva said, stepping forward.

"As you can see, Minerva, I have obtained a warrant signed by the Minister himself for your immediate arrest on charge of treason as well as other various offenses," crowed Dolores, waving the piece of paper in the air before handing it to Moore.

"Everything seems to be in order," ceded Moore.

"I trust you will not object if I examine it for myself." As one, the assembled group rotated to face the newest arrival whose voice had rang out so definitively across the Entrance Hall. He approached the group, extending a hand to Moore. "The warrant if you don't mind, Mr. Moore."

"Here you are, Mr. Ashford."

"Hem, hem. What are you doing here, Mr. Ashford? I was not informed of any visit by the International Magical Office of Law," demanded Dolores.

"I'm not here on behalf of the International Magical Office of Law. I'm here to act as Professor McGonagall's advocate," explained Ashford in the same tone one who use to correct a misbehaving four year old. After scrutinizing the warrant, he gave it back to Moore. "It appears legitimate."

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to surrender your wand, Professor," said Moore.

"Of course, Mr. Moore. I understand." Minerva withdrew her wand, but rather than handing it to Moore, bequeathed it to Ashford.

"Professor McGonagall, I must insist –" Dawlish attempted to seize the wand. Jonathan evaded his grasping fingers and tucked the wand into an inside pocket of his robe.

"Mr. Dawlish, under the law, a witch or wizard has the option to surrender their wand to their advocate for the duration of the trial. The Ministry may conduct tests on the wand under the supervision of the advocate, but may not demand that the wand be overturned to them unless the accused is charged with murder. As that is not the case here, Professor McGonagall is within her rights to entrust her wand to me, pending the outcome of the trial."

"Mr. Ashford is absolutely correct. And I would hate to think that you or the Ministry would be so remiss, Dolores, as to treat Professor McGonagall with anything less than the upmost courtesy and respect. It would not reflect well on your leadership. Innocent until proven guilty, Dolores, and, it would appear most unbecoming if you forgot that fact," spoke Professor Marchbanks from her position next to the three other Heads of Houses. Dolores gaped at her, doubtless already dreaming of humiliating McGonagall as much as possible. Turning her attention to the Aurors with a stern glare, she continued, "And I'm sure that the two of you will remember the many years of Professor McGonagall's dedicated service to Hogwarts and its students including yourselves."  
"Professor Marchbanks, I promise you that the Aurors, or most of us at any rate, take no pleasure in this task and that Professor McGonagall will be treated with respect," answered Moore.

"I'm glad to hear that," replied Marchbanks.

"Hem, hem," coughed Dolores. "Dawlish, Moore, you have a warrant to execute. I want Professor McGonagall removed from these grounds immediately." She smiled broadly, stretching her flabby features and reveling in her victory. _Gloat while you can, Dolores. You will find very shortly that you have finally bitten off more than you can chew,_ thought Minerva. _Before this is over, on my honor as a Gryffindor, I will see you ruined. _

"Professor? We need to escort you to the Ministry," said Moore, his tone and face genuinely apologetic.

"I will be accompanying her," stated Jonathan, "to ensure that everything is handled properly and according to the letter of the law."

"Before we leave, I must speak with my colleagues for a moment." Without waiting for permission, Minerva approached her fellow Heads of Houses.

"Professor Flitwick, the end of term letters must be copied and sent home with the students. The list of first year and their letter can be found in my desk. I have also prepared a rudimentary schedule for next year. If it becomes necessary, I trust you to make the necessary adjustments."

"Professor Sprout, I've already spoken with the house-elves about the summer cleaning. They generally require little assistance but some of the portraits can be finicky. The supply list for next year should be sent to the appropriate shops and vendors by the end of June at the latest. In regards to the required books, Florish and Blotts needs to know by the end of term in order to guarantee enough copies. The complete file is in my desk."

"Professor Snape, please speak with Madame Pomfrey about replenishing her potions supply. I would also like you to thoroughly inspect the castle and grounds and perform any repairs you deem appropriate."

"Professor McGonagall, we will take excellent care of Hogwarts in your temporarily absence," declared Filius, ignoring the sneering look on Dolores' face at the use of the word 'temporary.' "Don't worry about us or the school."

"I have no doubt of that. If I have not returned in time, Professor Flitwick will lead the warding ceremonies as he has seniority. I would ask that you pay particular attention to the shielding and other defensive components of the wards this year."

"I'm sure that you will be back before then Professor McGonagall," said Pomona.

"I certainly intend to be."

"Professor, we need to be going," pronounced Moore. Catching Severus' dark gaze for a moment and receiving the slightest tilt of his head, Minerva felt confident that Severus would immediately inform the Order and serve well as the only remaining representative of the Order at Hogwarts. _I do believe that I might have detected the slightest hints of concern and encouragement_ _for me. _

When Minerva, the Aurors, and Jonathan Ashford started towards the doors, Dolores made as if to follow them, stopping short when Professor Marchbanks called out, "Dolores, with your Deputy Head leaving the premises, I believe it would be unacceptable for you to leave the castle. I see no reason for you to accompany them to the Ministry." With obvious irritation, Dolores reluctantly heeded Marchbanks instructions. Once the quartet had shut the doors behind them, Marchbanks demanded imperiously, "Since you have disrupted the Astronomy examination, you will show me to my quarters. Tomorrow morning, we will discuss your behavior." Dolores had no choice, but to acquiesce to Marchbanks' orders.

Slowly, the Entrance Hall emptied of everyone except for the three remaining Heads of Houses. Filius and Pomona reassured the various staff members as they expressed worry over Minerva while Severus ventured outside to send a Patronus to Grimmauld Place. When he reentered, Filius and Pomona were waiting for him.

"You've sent a message to Dumbledore?" inquired Filius. "He would want to be informed immediately."

"He will be. Goodnight." Without further ado, Severus strode off towards his quarters. Once out of sight he paused and pressed a hand to the wall. As a Head of House, he had sensed when Minerva passed the gates and the wards shifted to Flitwick, the senior Head. _Champion dueler or not, Flitwick is no substitute for Minerva or the Headmaster. The wards feel dulled and somehow…_Severus searched for a fitting word to describe the sensation…_bereft. _In the very deepest recess of his thoughts, a faint voice suggested that perhaps he was merely interpreting the wards to mirror his own emotions. Severus deliberately pushed this quiet omission back into the locked and barred closest from which it had emerged. _Don't be ridiculous. She will be perfectly fine and will come back just in time to hound me to accept Potter into N.E.W.T. Potions so the golden boy can follow his heart's desire to become an Auror. Naturally, I will notify her that hell will freeze over before I allow Potter into my classroom again._ Severus savored the thought of the ensuing debate which would undoubtedly occur between himself and Minerva on the subject. Still, as he entered his rooms, the sensation of imbalance and uneasiness persisted.

Upon arrival at the Ministry, the Aurors conducted McGonagall and Ashford to an enclosed office in the Aurors' section to complete the necessary preliminaries and paperwork. However, they were interrupted within a few minutes by Madam Bones. Despite the late hour, Amelia Bones appeared alert and prepared to investigate the situation. Although her bobbed grey hair was slightly less controlled than usual, little else evidenced that she had been woken from a sound sleep and rushed to the Ministry. Of average height with hazel eyes and a generous smile, many underestimated Madam Bones when they first met her. However, they usually discovered rather quickly that Amelia Bones possessed an unshakeable moral integrity, a firm resolve to uphold the law and protect the Wizarding community, and the skills and authority to direct her Department effectively and efficiently.

"Professor McGonagall, I was just told of your arrest," exclaimed the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, advancing into the room and causing the Aurors to rise from their seats. With an abrupt wave of her hand, she dismissed the Aurors, "You can finish the paperwork elsewhere." When the two Aurors had vacated the room, she continued, "Luckily, Mr. White was working late and heard about the arrest warrant. He immediately Flooed me. The Minister and Umbridge have finally gone too far. To charge, you, of all people Professor, of treason. What can I do? Considering the woeful lack of evidence against you, the charges might be dropped."

"Madam Bones," Minerva spoke decisively, "I do not want the charges dropped. My name has been blackened and dismissed charges will not definitively remove the stain. People might assume that the Ministry was forced to relent on the basis of minor technicalities and not because I am innocent. I believe, Madam Bones, that only a full trial and a verdict of innocent will restore my reputation and my good name. The sole request I would make of you is that you ensure the trial is conducted according to the law and prevent certain individuals from manipulating the trial for to guarantee a guilty verdict."

"Whatever you believe about the Ministry, Professor, I have not abandoned the principles and laws I swore to uphold when I accepted this post. As the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, I will be presiding over your trial and I give you my word that it will be fair and just. Mr. Ashford, judging by your presence, I assume you will be acting as Professor McGonagall's representative?"

"Yes and I'm relieved to hear that you will not allow Professor McGonagall to be railroaded."

"I'm sure you will be of assistance in that quarter, Mr. Ashford. I'm pleased the Professor McGonagall will be defended by someone of your caliber. She deserves nothing less."

"I am honored to be asked to do so, Madam Bones. It is unfortunate that we will be on opposite sides during the trial," replied Ashford. Madame Bones nodded, having worked alongside Jonathan Ashford on numerous occasions and been impressed by his expertise and talent as well as his character.

"I shouldn't linger if I don't want to give the Minister any cause to demand that I remove myself from presiding over the case. Dawkins, Moore," she called. Instantly, the two Aurors presented themselves.

"Madam Bones?" asked Moore.

"Where are Davidson, Castor, and Mills?" demanded Madam Bones. "I understand they were with you?"

"Professor Umbridge ordered Castor and Davidson to search the Forbidden Forest for Rubeus Hagrid, ma'am, after he escaped. Mills received minor injuries and is being attended to in the Hogwarts infirmary," reported Moore.

"Dawlish, I want you to return to Hogwarts at once and retrieve Castor and Davidson. They can continue the search in the morning. I will not have my Aurors put at risk, stumbling around in the Forbidden Forest at night." For a moment, Dawlish looked as if he might protest, but Madam Bones cleared her throat pointedly and glared at him. The Auror mumbled an acceptance of her order and headed in the direction of elevators. Satisfied, Madam Bones addressed Moore, "Where will you take Professor McGonagall after this?"

"Azkaban, I'm sorry to say, Madam Bones," answered Moore with an apologetic expression and tone.

"That is unacceptable. You will escort her to the Epping Forest house instead," she directed, naming the house reserved for any person accused of nonviolent crimes who the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement deemed inappropriate to hold in Azkaban. "I'm afraid, Professor, that you will have to submit to a dampening spell. Azkaban does not require such a measure because of the dementors, or rather, it didn't. However, considering your abilities, I am forced to require it of you."

Minerva glanced at Jonathan, who nodded, and said, "I understand, Madam Bones, although I assure you it would be a thoroughly unnecessary precaution. I have no intention of attempting to escape or anything of the kind." _I would be reluctant to have my power bound under normal conditions, but in this situation…_

"I have no doubt of that, but I have to follow procedure. I can conduct the casting myself right now unless you would prefer someone else to do it."

"No, I would have requested that you cast the spell if you had not offered." _I would not trust anyone else not to do it correctly or to not take advantage of the opportunity. _

"In your case, Professor, I think I will have to bewitch an object to hold the spell since your own powers will probably overwhelm my initial casting. I have a brooch in my office which should do nicely. If you would excuse me…" Threading her way through the Aurors' cubicles, she retrieved a smallish silver brooch shaped as an intricate knot of rope and a thick tome. "Yes, this will suffice. You will have to keep this within three feet of your body, otherwise it will lose effectiveness and an alarm will alert both myself and the Aurors. It should dampen your powers more or less completely. I suspect that you may be able to perform very simple spells such as _Lumos_ and a close range _Accio_, but nothing more powerful than those."

"I will keep that in mind, Madam Bones," said Minerva.

"Moore, hold this open here. First, I will need to cast the spell on you directly, Professor, and then on the brooch. Could you stand please?" Madam Bones advised her.

"Go ahead," Minerva stood up. Consulting the aged book at intervals, Madam Bones waved her wand in specific patterns, enunciating each word carefully. As Madam Bones worked through the spell, Minerva expected to feel her power lessened by increments. _Curious, I have not felt anything yet,_ she thought when Madam Bones switched her attention to the brooch. Madam Bones repeated the gestures and words a second time. Finally, she swept her wand in a vertical circle and aimed it at Minerva. A sudden painful tightness seized Minerva. Seeing her stumble, Jonathan reached out to guide her into a chair. _Breathe, Minerva, breathe. _Vaguely, Minerva was aware of Amelia apologizes for the effects of the spell. Apparently, since it was rarely used and never within memory on a witch or wizard of Minerva's strength, Amelia had been ignorant that it could cause physical pain. _Breathe, in…out…in…out. _Gradually, the tightness eased into a muted ache. Experimentally, Minerva reached for her power and slammed into magical wall. She could still sense her power beyond the barrier, but could not access it. A sense of loss filled her. _I have never been without my magic. Even when I was a little girl, I knew something was different. I knew I had something unique, something powerful and extraordinary. _Minerva corrected herself firmly. _Your power may have given you a place in this world, but magical ability does not determine who you are. Your own choices and character determine that. And it is temporary. _

"The spell, it was tied to the Ministry, I believe?" Minerva questioned Madam Bones.

"Yes, this particular book has been handed down to each Head of Magical Law Enforcement and ties the user to the Ministry's wards and power reservoirs. I would not have been able to bind your power otherwise. My own power would not have been enough. Are you quite alright? I apologize again. I had no idea it would affect you like that. If I had known - "

"You would have been required to do it anyway. I am fine now," asserted Minerva.

"All the same, I think that it would be a good idea for you to get some rest," said Jonathan. "Madam Bones, if that is all…"

"Of course. Moore, please see Professor McGonagall to Epping Forest and contact Hogwarts to obtain anything she might need. Professor, Mr. Ashford, I expect I will see both of you soon. Good night, or, good morning, as it may be." Amelia left the office, proceeding to her own after deciding it was useless to try to go home and sleep another couple of hours. Within a few hours, the Ministry would be abuzz with the news and she wanted to have a response ready for the questions which would be directed her way. In Madam Bones' wake, Moore conducted Professor McGonagall and Ashford to the Epping Forest house. Once there, Minerva suggested that he simply permit her to call Reyna to bring her a few personal items. After Reyna had left, Jonathan promised to return at noon and departed as well. Moore, distinctly uncomfortable with the entire situation, occupied himself with a book in the library.

Minerva retired to the master bedroom, observing the spells on the windows to prevent escape. Abruptly, the fact of her imprisonment hit her. She was restrained magically and physically. She chafed at the bounds. _You knew this would happen, Minerva, so don't complain. Get some sleep while you can. _Slipping into bed, she allowed herself to wish just once for her familiar quarters at Hogwarts before closing her eyes and letting herself drift into sleep.

Final Author's Note: I believe I will borrow from another famous British author and say, "May God bless us, every one!"


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: **Bold** text is taken from pages 731-734 of the American edition of _The Order of the Phoenix_. Again, I have chosen to use JKR's original work, but modify it for my own purposes. I apologize; I was a little later than I had hoped to be with this chapter. I repeat that this not, and was not ever intended to be, canon in regards to plotline.

Thank you to those who reviewed the previous chapter and a Happy New Year to everyone.

Chapter 11:

Hermione's eyes raced across her History of Magic textbook, but she found herself unable to remember so much as a single sentence of what she had just read. Instead, her mind focused on the conspicuous empty seats at the staff table. Dolores Umbridge smiled triumphantly down at the students from the Head's gilded chair while the space at her right, Professor McGonagall's usual place, and Hagrid's seat at the end nearest the Gryffindor table silently proclaimed the increasing cost of her reign. The students, however, were far from silent on the subject. All around her, students exchanged information obtained from those few students who dared to hide themselves within hearing distance last night and speculation about what would happen next.

"Hermione!" Ron snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention. Seated across from her, he knocked over a basket of rolls in the process.

"What is it, Ron?" she demanded as he righted the basket and tossed the rolls back in. "I'm trying to study."

"How can you study at a time like this?" asked Ron. "When that Toad has gotten McGonagall arrested and Hagrid on the run?" He made a rather unsavory gesture at Umbridge. Ordinarily, Hermione would have scolded him. Considering the person at whom it was directed, she made an exception.

"Professor McGonagall told us to concentrate on finishing our exams. I'm not giving Umbridge any ammunition against Professor McGonagall by doing poorly on the O.W.L.s." Resolutely, she returned her attention to the book propped up against the milk jug. _In 1871, the rules of dueling were altered to strictly forbid the use of Memory charms after an unfortunate incident involving the heir to the Crouch estate. _

"Pass the muffins, Ron," said Harry as he sat down on Hermione's left.

Discontented with Hermione's reaction, Ron engaged Harry in a virulent tirade of abuse against Umbridge. Hermione heard the phrases "fat toad," "bloody idiot," and "Ministry moron" repeated frequently. After reaching the conclusion that Dolores Umbridge deserved to be immersed in Snape's nastiest potion and then thrown to the giant squid, the idea of revenge was glistening in their eyes. Judging by the uproar emanating from the rest of Gryffindor House, revenge appeared to be the central theme of discussion.

"No mercy!" declared Lee Jordan from a few seats down. "Let's make that Ministry dolt regret ever messing with Gryffindor!" Cheers of "Here, here" echoed up and down the length of the table.

"Oh for goodness' sake, if you don't lower your voices, she'll hear you," Hermione cried out exasperated, slamming her book shut. "Professor McGonagall won't want us to give Umbridge more excuses to punish us."

"We can't just sit back and do nothing!" exclaimed Ginny.

"I'm not saying that, Ginny. Look, we need to do this properly and that means making sure that Umbridge can't pin anything on any individual student and that she can't use our actions against Professor McGonagall." With most of the nearby Gryffindors listening in, Hermione continued in a quieter voice, "We have to work together. And it would help if we could enlist members of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. I've already talked to their fifth year prefects and they are upset too. The more people involved, the better. Umbridge can't be everywhere at once and Filch is stuck shuttling students across the swamp."

"What about the other professors?" asked Colin Creevey, glancing up at the staff table.

"Well, none of them look very pleased with the Headmistress at the moment," remarked Kenneth Towler. That was an obvious understatement. All of staff wore stony expressions that nevertheless radiated anger towards the Ministry official in their midst.

"I don't think they'll interfere unless it affects them directly," said Hermione. "Now, since today is the last O.W.L. exams, we shouldn't do anything drastic until after it is over. Start thinking of ideas and we can discuss plans in the common room tonight. Make sure that everyone knows, alright?" Hermione watched her suggestions being passed down the table for a minute and then faced Harry and Ron who were gazing at her with awe.

"What?" she demanded.

"It's just...well…you are actually supporting breaking school rules," stammered Ron. Hermione shot him a scorching glare.

"If you don't remember Ron, I thought of the D.A. first." Sensing the potential start of another bout of bickering between the two, Harry chose to stay silent.

"I know, but…this is bigger than that. I never thought I would live to see the day when you approved of breaking rules."

"Oh shut up, Ron."

At the staff table, Filius and Pomona observed the commotion at the Gryffindor table as well as the somewhat more muted reactions of the other Houses. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff both clearly shared Gryffindor's outrage at the treatment of the Deputy Headmistress. Predictably, the Slytherin table appeared divided between indifference and delight at Professor McGonagall's removal.

"I wonder what they're plotting," said Pomona to Filius. The pair had managed to secure seats far enough away from Dolores to enable them to converse without being overheard.

"Something utterly magnificent I'm sure," replied Filius. "I do believe our _dear esteemed _Headmistress might be in for a series of surprises over the coming few days."

"Gryffindor does have an astonishing sense of House loyalty, doesn't it Professor Flitwick? It's positively heartwarming and I'm pleased to see that my Hufflepuffs and your Ravenclaws are supporting Minerva's House in their time of crisis."

"I couldn't agree more, Professor Sprout. Dear me, our Headmistress seems to be having difficulty filling her plate." Every time Umbridge reached for a dish on the table, it promptly vanished. Ordering Septima, who was closest, to pass her the plate of sausages, Umbridge smirked triumphantly. Much to her disappointment and frustration, the sausages vanished from the plate as soon as it touched the tips of Dolores' fingers. Futilely attempting this maneuver several more times to the concealed amusement of the staff, Dolores finally conceded defeat.

"Velda!" barked Dolores, referring to the house-elf in charge of the kitchens. No answer was forthcoming. "Velda! Velda!" Dolores turned to Severus with a simpering smile, "Professor Snape, would you do me the favor of summoning Velda. There is a problem with the service that must be addressed."

"I have noticed that. Velda," called Severus. A pop sounded and Velda materialized beside the Slytherin's chair. With round ears and a button nose, the house-elf bowed to the Potions master.

"How can Velda be of assistance, Professor?" she said in the characteristically high-pitched tones.

"Headmistress Umbridge has had difficulty transferring any food to her plate, Velda."

"Ah, yes, Professor." The house-elf rotated to confront Dolores directly. "Our apologies, Madam Umbridge, we is making your breakfast extra special."

"Good, Velda. I expect such singular treatment as Headmistress, a fact I have tried to impress upon you in the past," said Dolores with her usual arrogance.

"Quite. It is done now," stated Velda. She clicked her fingers and a plate appeared in front of Dolores. Another click announced Velda's departure as the pungent odor of burnt bacon, eggs, and toast wafted over the staff table.

"Excuse us," choked out Aurora as she, Charity, and Septima rose and hastened to exit the Great Hall. Filius thought he heard giggles as the door swung shut. _If Dolores wants 'singular treatment,' I trust the house-elves will be obliging her in every possible way, _thought Filius. _Wonderful creatures, house-elves. _Filius strongly suspected that the house-elves would ensure that Dolores was deprived of every creature comfort and luxury, forcing the toady to survive on what they considered bare necessities. _I do hope they deem a mattress a luxury. I think it would do Dolores good to sleep on the stone floor. Without a single pillow or blanket. I can hardly wait to see what the students determine as fitting punishment for Dolores. Peeves will certainly join in and I would not be surprised if St. Nicholas and some of the other ghosts help as well. I hope everyone is able to attend the council I've called at morning break. We need to plan our own strategy. _

* * *

While the students, staff, and even ghosts of Hogwarts conspired against Dolores, Molly Weasley arrived a little before noon at Grimmauld Place to prepare for a meeting hurriedly scheduled for that evening. In the kitchen, she found Sirius, Remus, and Emmeline Vance discussing the news.

"Emmeline, I didn't expect to see you here," Molly said after exchanging good mornings.

"Since I'm not on rotation today, I thought I might as well spend the day here. You're very early too. Have you seen the today's _Prophet_? Utter and complete rubbish, that's what it is."

"I didn't want to sit around the house idle. As for the _Prophet, _I threw it straight on the fire after I saw the headline," answered Molly.

"They're calling Professor McGonagall a traitor to the country! Can you believe it? They're saying how commendable that, that _woman_ is for discovering McGonagall's disloyalty and what astonishing foresight the Minister had to appoint Umbridge and give her jurisdiction over Hogwarts." Emmeline snorted, "Blooming idiots. I'd check for spell damage if I was their family Healer. They demonstrate a distinct lack of functioning brain matter."

"I couldn't agree more, Emmeline," said Remus. "Here, Molly, let me help you."

"Thank you, Remus," Molly said as he began unpacking and putting away the contents of the grocery sacks. "I thought I would do a sort of buffet for tonight as most people probably won't want a sit-down dinner."

"Sounds wonderful," contributed Sirius, getting up to help as well.

"Get off your feet, Molly, and let the boys finish the job," said Emmeline. As Molly sat down, Emmeline poured and fixed her a cup of tea. "When did you find out?"

"This morning. There was a letter from Dumbledore on the kitchen table when Arthur and I came downstairs. What about you?"

"Same here. I had to reread it twice in order to make myself believe it. And it was very scarce on the details. All it said was the Rubeus had been forced to flee, Professor McGonagall was arrested for treason, and to meet at Grimmauld at seven tonight. Do you two know anything more?" she queried Remus and Sirius.

"Not really," replied Sirius, "Fawkes brought us a note from Dumbledore early this morning. He told us he had called an emergency meeting for this evening and of the circumstances, but nothing else." Having completed unpacking, he and Remus took their seats.

"Severus must have been the one to inform him," concluded Remus.

Sirius harrumphed, "I bet he enjoyed that. A true Slytherin triumph."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Sirius," said Remus. Sirius stared at him. "Despite outward appearances, Severus and Minerva share an understanding of a sort. I don't know if you would call it a typical friendship, but they respect each other and Severus appears to tolerate if not prefer her company more than any other staff member's." Sirius looked slightly aghast at this prospect, but before he could reply, a massive crash and Mrs. Black's shrieks sounded from the entryway.

"That must be Tonks," remarked Emmeline.

"I'll go make sure she's alright," volunteered Remus, hurrying out of the room. Molly and Emmeline exchanged knowing looks. Sirius just smirked.

"Thanks Remus, Wotcher, Molly, Emmeline, Sirius," said Tonks as she entered the kitchen trailed by Mad-eye Moody and Remus.

"Morning," growled Alastor as he and Tonks claimed seats.

"Hello, Alastor. Shouldn't you be at work, Tonks?" asked Molly.

"I'm taking a long lunch. Besides, no one is going to notice if I'm not there in all the chaos."

"What's happening?" queried Emmeline.

"All hell is breaking loose. I take it Dumbledore sent everyone the same message about Hagrid and McGonagall?" At their nods, Tonks swept her hair, strawberry red today, back from her face and continued, "Well, I only found about a dozen Howlers on my desk this morning to begin with. And that was just me. Then, half of the Aurors threatened to quit once they had heard about McGonagall. On top of that, Madame Chevalier, you know the Ministre de la Défense de la France, stormed into our offices right before I left. She didn't look too happy although I can't imagine why she's here."

"Minister Chevalier and McGonagall are good friends," rumbled Moody. "McGonagall worked with Chevalier to scent out several Death Eaters and their supporters in France."

"That would explain it," said Tonks. "At least, Madam Bones instructed us to forward the Howlers to the Minister. She said that since he had made the decision, he could deal with the consequences."

"I think the Minister might be beginning to get an inkling of the furor he has incited," Remus said.

"I certainly hope so. Tonks, Alastor, would you like something to eat?"

"If it's not too much trouble, Molly," answered Tonks. "I'll help."

"No, no, dear, you sit down. I'll make sandwiches." Molly rose and began bustling around the kitchen. Sirius retrieved a pack of cards, coercing Remus and Tonks into playing a game of Exploding Snap. Moody and Emmeline launched into a discussion of curses and their effects.

* * *

_Number 3:_ _Describe the circumstances that led to the Treaty of Lorraine between the English and French Ministries of Magic in 1815 and explain the ramifications of said treaty. _

_Number 7:_ _Explain what provoked the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 and describe the effects of these trials on the Wizarding world at large._

_Number 12: Illustrate the history of the separation of the Magical and Muggle worlds from the founding of Hogwarts to the present day using a minimum of ten, but no more than fifteen, significant events as examples. _On every question, Hermione scribbled furiously, rapidly filling up the space provided and forcing her to resort to the back side of the parchment to finish her answers. Absorbed completely in her examination, she failed to notice Harry's head drifting down into his hands a couple of rows over. _One more question left and then I will check my answers to make sure I haven't missed anything important. I still think I should add more detail to the number eight. _

"NOOOOO!" Hermione jerked at Harry's scream. He had fallen out of his seat, gripping his scar.

"Harry! Are you alright?" she exclaimed, starting towards him. The Great Hall echoed with the sudden chatter and inquiries of the students disturbed from their exams.

"If everyone could remain in their seats and redirect their attention back to their papers," commanded Professor Marchbanks as Professor Tofty escorted Harry from the Great Hall. Hermione followed him with her eyes. _What happened? What did you see Harry?_ With effort, she focused on the final question and finished the exam with an unusual sense of impatience for it to be concluded. Harry did not return.

When Professor Marchbanks collected their papers, Hermione and Ron both dashed out of the Great Hall to find Harry waiting for them. He vibrated with nervous energy.

"What happened, Harry? What's wrong? Are you sick?" demanded Hermione immediately.

"Why did you leave the exam?" asked Ron.

"Come on." Harry hurried up the stairs and ushered them into an empty classroom. Filled with trepidation, Hermione watched as Harry shut the door firmly behind them. _This cannot be good._

**"Voldemort's got Sirius."**

"_**What?"**_gasped Hermione.

**"How d'you – ?"**

**"Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."**

**"But – but where? How?" said Hermione**, feeling the blood drain from her face.

**"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven…He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there…He's torturing him….Says he'll end by killing him…"** Harry's entire body trembled as he spoke. Sinking down onto a desk, Harry appeared to be attempting to collect himself. Hermione couldn't think, couldn't figure out how to respond or what to suggest. Ron's stunned gaze traveled between Hermione and Harry as he leaned against the wall.

**"How're we going to get there?" **Startled, Hermione stared at him without comprehension.

After a pause, **Ron said, "G-get there?"**

**"Get to the Department of Mysteries, so we can rescue Sirius!"** Harry nearly yelled as if this should be patently obvious.

"**But – Harry…"** **said Ron weakly.**

**"What? **_**What?" **_**said Harry. **

Hermione found her voice again. **"Harry, er…how…how did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anyone realizing he was there?" **

**"How do I know?" bellowed Harry. "The question is how we're going to get in there!"**

**"But… Harry, think about this," said Hermione**, hoping Harry would listen to her, **"it's five o'clock in the afternoon…The Ministry of Magic must be full of workers… How would Voldemort and Sirius have go in without being seen? Harry…they're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world…You think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?"**

**"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry shouted. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been – "**

**"You've never been there, Harry," said Hermione**, dropping her voice in an effort to make Harry pay attention to what she was saying. **"You've dreamed about the place, that's all."**

**"They're not normal dreams!" **He stepped towards her, mere inches away from her face. **"How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what happened to him?"**

**"He's got a point," said Ron. **_You are not helping, Ronald Weasley! I need Harry to listen to me! It's impossible. Voldemort __can't__ be at the Ministry._

**"But this is just – just so **_**unlikely**_**! How on earth could Voldemort have got hold of Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all the time?"**

**"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," said Ron, sounding worried. "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages – " **_Ron, shut up! Especially since Sirius might be reckless and stupid enough to do that!_

**"But why," Hermione persisted, "why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?"**

**"I dunno, there could be loads of reasons!" Harry yelled at her. **_Name one, Harry! _**"Maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt – " **_Then why bother with Sirius, Harry! Why not use any wizard or witch off the street? Voldemort doesn't care about hurting __anybody!_

**"You know what, I've just thought of something," said Ron in a hushed voice. "Sirius' brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!" **Harry seized upon this wild postulation with alacrity.

**"Yeah – and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!" said Harry. **

**"Look, I'm sorry," cried Hermione, "but neither of you are making sense, and we've got no proof for any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there – "**

**"Hermione, Harry's seen them!" said Ron, rounding on her. **Hermione gulped, but refused to abandon her position.

**"Okay," she said, looking frightened yet determined, "I've just got to say this…"**

**"What?" **demanded Harry.

**"You…This isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do…sort of…I mean – don't you think you've got a bit of a – a – **_**saving-people-thing**_**?" she said. **

**He gaped at her. "And what's that supposed to mean, a 'saving-people-thing'?"**

**"Well….you…"** Hermione braced herself for his reaction. **"I mean…last year, for instance…in the lake…during the Tournament…you shouldn't have…I mean, you didn't need to save that little Delacour girl…You got a bit…carried away…" **Despite the furious look on Harry's face, she pushed ahead, **"…I mean, it was really great of you and everything. Everyone though it was a wonderful thing to do – "**

**"That's funny," said Harry though gritted teeth, "because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time **_**acting the hero**_**…is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?" **

**"No, no, no!" **_For heaven's sake Harry, can't you understand what I'm saying? Voldemort knows how you think Harry! He knows you won't let someone, let alone your godfather, be tortured and killed without trying to rescue them! _**"That's not what I mean at all!"**

**"Well, spit out what you've got to say, because we're wasting time here!" Harry shouted.**

**"I'm trying to say – Voldemort knows you, Harry. He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there, it's the kind of thing he does, he you're the – the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's just trying to get you into the Department of Myst– "**

**"Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not – They've taken McGonagall –" **_McGonagall! _**"–there isn't anyone left from the Order at Hogwarts who we can tell and if we don't go, Sirius is dead!'**

"You're wrong, Harry." Relief flooded Hermione, triggered by hearing the name McGonagall and sparking the memory of the previous night's events.

"No, I'm not. We have to go now!" roared Harry.

"Harry, listen to me. You're wrong. There _is_ still a member of the Order at Hogwarts, Professor Snape. We need to tell him what has happened and let him contact the Order!" Much to her distress, Harry and Ron stared at her as if she had gone mad.

"Snape?" Harry spat out incredulously. "Snape would rather let Sirius die than help him Hermione! We can't trust him." Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.

"He's right, Hermione. Snape would never help Sirius," said Ron, "not in a million years. He hates Sirius."

"He's still a member of the Order." Meeting Harry's gaze directly, she asserted firmly, "And you promised Professor McGonagall to inform the Order if anything happened."

"Yes, but –" Harry started to protest before Hermione cut him off.

"So you're going to break your word to her?" she challenged him.

"No, but –" said Harry, his voice at a normal level for the first time.

"Good." Without another word, Hermione opened the door and strode in the direction of the nearest staircase. The boys glanced at each other, shrugged, and raced to catch up with her.

"Where are you going?" demanded Harry as they descended the stairs into the Entrance Hall.

"To see Professor Snape," replied Hermione coolly. At their combined cries of "Hermione!" she whipped around to face them. "You said you were going to keep your promise, Harry. And _if_ what you saw is true, we can't afford to waste any more time." She turned and resumed her swift progress towards the dungeons. Within moments, the three of them arrived in front of Snape's office.

Severus muttered imprecations about the abilities of his fourth years as he marked their exam essays. _Deaf and dumb and blind, the lot of them._ Having slept very little and with Minerva's arrest, Severus had forcibly restrained himself from cursing the Ministry cretin into oblivion over the course of the day. Already, Hogwarts suffered from the absence of its Deputy Headmistress. Various small problems were rapidly presenting themselves while the students had intensified their campaign against the Toad. It was, as he had snidely remarked to Filius that afternoon, like allowing the patients to run the asylum.

At the knock, he barked, "Come in." He sneered when Potter, Weasley, and Granger entered, "What, may I ask, impelled you to come down here and disturb me in my work? I am inclined to put all of you in detention unless you have an exceptionally good excuse." Disregarding them, he resumed his marking.

"Professor Snape, we have something to tell you," said Hermione.

"Evidently, Miss Granger. Try to do something other than state the obvious." Hermione looked expectantly at Harry, stepping on his foot when he remained silent to no effect.

"Harry had another vision, Professor." This statement attracted Severus' attention. "Voldemort is at the Ministry."

"I find that highly unlikely, Miss Granger. Potter probably fell asleep during his exam and has invented this story to cover up his indolence."

"I have not made it up!" shouted Harry. "I saw him at the Ministry and he was –"

"You will lower your voice, Potter, and address me with the prop –"

Interrupting Professor Snape, Harry bellowed, "I don't care! Voldemort is at the Department of Mysteries and has gotten Sirius. He's threatening to kill Sirius unless Sirius helps him get the weapon!"

"We need you to contact the Order, Professor," said Hermione in a much more reasonable tone. "If there is any chance of this being true…" Silence followed her petition.

_Well, well, Black's life is hanging in the balance dependent upon my decision. How the wheel turns. That supposing the Potter's vision is true and not merely a figment of his imagination or a trap set by the Dark Lord. _Severus finally spoke, "Describe the vision to me in detail, Potter."

"I already told you, Voldemort is in the Department of Mysteries with Sirius. They're in a room full of shelves of little glass balls. Voldemort wants Sirius to get one of them down for him. Now, will you contact the Order?" Once again, silence reigned as Severus considered the situation. _How would he know about the Hall of Prophecy unless the vision was at least partially correct? _thought Severus. _So it appears that the vision is either true or a trap. _A part of him suggested that he send the three on their way and leave Black to his fate, whatever that might be. It was the vindictive side of him that whispered this idea in his ear and reminded him of the long list of indignities and grievances committed against him by Black. Here at last surfaced the chance to repay Black for his treatment of Severus Snape.

In the midst of these thoughts, Severus suddenly recalled a conversation with Minerva which had taken place shortly after the confrontation between himself and Black over Harry's Occulmency lessons. He had returned to Hogwarts in high dudgeon. Naturally, he had reported to the Headmaster who had been in discussion with Minerva. Not trusting his temper, he had been deliberately curt and left as quickly as possible. To his surprise, Minerva had visited him in his quarters less than an hour later. In typical McGonagall fashion, she had bluntly demanded that he explain what had him "glowering like somebody had stolen his favorite cauldron." He had responded with a vitriolic tirade describing his latest encounter with the golden boy and his sainted godfather. Without commenting, she listened to him vent until he lapsed gradually into a brooding silence. Only then did she speak.

"Severus, I have a better understanding than most of the bad blood between you and Black. However," she had paused, fixing him with her powerful gaze, "however, you are no longer a schoolboy. The Order cannot afford dissention within its ranks and that includes you and Black." She had held up a hand to forestall his speech. "You are not responsible for Black's actions, Severus, but you are responsible for yours. I am not suggesting that you forget the past. That would be unreasonable. Yet, you have changed since those days, Severus. Do not forget that. Do not permit Black to reverse the progress you have made."

Minerva had risen and walked over to the door, laying one hand on the doorknob as she faced him. Before she had left him to his thoughts, she added, "Concern yourself with your own character, Severus, and ignore those who would impugn it unjustly. If you must view this as a competition between yourself and Black, then see to it that you act in a manner that marks you as the better man. I expect nothing less."

Her words reverberated in his mind now. Grudgingly, he accepted that he would follow her directive and be the "better man."If nothing else, he would enjoy the satisfaction of having Black in some fashion owe him his life, assuming that he was actually in any danger instead of skulking around Grimmauld Place.

"I will contact the Headmaster who can determine the veracity of your account, Potter. In the meantime, you will go down to dinner. I do not want our _revered _Headmistress to become suspicious," Snape ordered. "In fact, I will escort you there myself to ensure that you do not run off in some harebrained scheme to rescue Black yourselves. Now, get out of my office and wait outside for me." Harry and Ron appeared likely to dispute this until Hermione opened the door and dragged them through it, yanking it closed behind her. Once outside, the three erupted into argument again. _No doubt, Potter and Weasley are in favor of getting away while they have the chance and going after Black. How they have managed to survive this long without the slightest inkling of common sense astonishes me. _

"Expecto Patronus," he muttered. As usual, the sight of his Patronus caused pain rather than the comfort normally experienced by other wizards and witches. "Headmaster, Potter has reported another vision. According to him, the Dark Lord has captured Black and is in the Hall of Prophecy. I request verification of this account and additional instructions." Disappearing into a wall, the Patronus dutifully sped away to seek out Dumbledore. Considering the time, Severus believed that the Headmaster would already be at Grimmauld Place in order to converse with and gather information from the Order members before the meeting. If not, the Headmaster would immediately travel to Grimmauld in any case to verify Black's whereabouts when he received the message. Should Black be missing, Grimmauld would be the logical staging ground for further action.

Finished with that task, Severus resigned himself to keeping an eye on the infamous trio until he received a reply. He doubted that Potter would not attempt something foolish that would end up getting him and a few other dunderheads into mortal peril. _I would never hear the end of it from Minerva or the Headmaster if I allowed them to blunder their way into another fiasco. _Sweeping out of his office, he commanded the three to follow him.

"Wait a minute, you said you would contact the Order," protested Harry loudly as he hurried to catch up to the Potions master.

"I have do so, Potter. Your precious godfather will be saved from destruction. Unfortunately."

"Thank you, Professor," jumped in Hermione before Harry or Ron could say anything else. She glared at the boys, clearing her throat pointedly.

"Thanks," grumbled Harry reluctantly and so low that Severus almost missed it.

"I didn't do it for your sake or for that mutt's sake either, Potter. Now, go take your seats," he said as they reached the Great Hall. While Hermione, Ron, and Harry found spaces at the Gryffindor table, Severus entered through the side door and secured the end seat. From there, he observed that Hermione appeared to be fighting a constant battle to keep Harry and Ron in their seats. Glancing down the staff table, he noticed that the house-elves had chosen to provide Umbridge with a barely edible meal of an undone potato while the rest of the staff dined on dishes Severus recognized as some of the Deputy Headmistress' favorites. Returning his attention to the students, he assessed the distinct tension emanating from them. The atmosphere reminded him strongly of the final phase of brewing for an Erado Totalus potion. At that stage, one infinitesimal mistake could ignite a chain reaction to create an explosion massive enough to demolish half a city block. _I have no doubt that you will make that mistake, Dolores. If I remember correctly, you failed Potions. _

About twenty minutes after he had sat down, Severus felt something brush his legs. He immediately stood and exited the Entrance Hall. Having been watching Snape closely, Ron, Harry and Hermione made similar departures. They located Professor Snape in the room which commonly held the unsorted first years every September.

"Well?" demanded Harry.

"Manners, Potter. You will address me properly."

Clenching his jaw, Harry managed, "What did the Order say, sir?"

"Black continues to take up space and oxygen at Grimmauld Place. The Headmaster wishes to see you. Come with me." Profound relief and confusion marked the faces of all three.

As Professor Snape led them up through the school, Hermione ventured, "How are we going to see Professor Dumbledore if he is not here, Professor?"

"Cultivate some patience, Miss Granger. It will prevent you from asking inane questions that will be answered shortly if you only wait." Halting in front of the gargoyle that guarded the Head's office, Severus said, "Ginger newts" and the gargoyle sprung aside. The moving staircase deposited them on the landing, Snape knocked firmly, and a familiar voice invited them to enter.

"Professor Snape, Harry, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, it is good to see you again although under less than auspicious circumstances." Despite Harry's less than congenial feelings towards the Headmaster, the sight of Albus Dumbledore calmed and reassured him considerably. Hermione and Ron eagerly offered their own greetings; their own anxieties eased by his presence. Dressed in a set of blue robes and seated behind his desk as if he had never left, Dumbledore's eyes alighted upon each of them in turn. Creating two more chairs with a wave of his hand, Dumbledore asked, "Please, sit down."

When the four had done so, Dumbledore directed his attention to Harry. "I'm sure you will be glad to know that Sirius is entirely unharmed and is currently enjoying Molly's delicious cooking."

"But what about my vision, Professor?" asked Harry.

"Ah yes...I believe that Voldemort was attempting to draw you into a trap, Harry," said Dumbledore. Hermione had to restrain herself from saying "I told you so."

"Why? What's in the Department of Mysteries? Why would Voldemort want me there?"

"That, Harry, is a question that I will decline to answer at this time. What matters at the present moment is that he has. Harry, I need to tell me exactly what you saw."

"Voldemort had Sirius in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. The room was full of shelves with little glass balls on them. It was dark. They were at row ninety-seven."

"Was there anyone else with them? Any Death Eaters?"

"No, Professor just Sirius and Voldemort. He wanted Sirius to take down on of the glass balls. Why would he want one of them?"

For a split second, Harry thought he saw Dumbledore's eyes cloud over in some unidentifiable emotion. Then Dumbledore answered, "Again, Harry, you have asked me a question that I am not prepared to answer. Severus, please see these three back to Gryffindor tower. I need to return to Grimmauld Place immediately. The Order must intervene to prevent any incursion of the Ministry. Goodnight Harry, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley."

While the other three rose, Harry continued to stare at Dumbledore for a moment longer. Dumbledore avoided his gaze by examining a sheet of parchment on his desk. At Snape's command to "get moving, Potter," he stood up and joined the others at the door.

"Professor, do you…do you know anything about Professor McGonagall or Hagrid?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"They are both fine, Miss Granger. Goodnight." As the door closed behind Severus and the students, Dumbledore leaned forward, holding the parchment in his hand. To all appearances, it looked like a spare bit of paper except for a single mark on one corner, a mark that could be dismissed as a crescent shaped smudge of ink. As Albus ran his thumb over the mark, it shifted and rearranged itself into the form of a crouching lion

_Minerva. It cannot be urgent, or she would not have left it here for me to find whenever I returned to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, I do not have time to read it now. _He folded and tucked the parchment into an inside breast pocket before vanishing from the room.

He reappeared outside of Grimmauld Place. Upon entry, Albus heard the babble of voices from the kitchen. Having been in the library with Remus when he received Severus' Patronus, he had immediately informed the members of the Order already present of the situation. He had requested that they send messages to the missing members to come as soon as possible.

At the doorway, he paused to survey the assembled group. Albus nodded to himself when he found everyone in attendance except for Severus, Minerva, and predictably Aberforth. Stepping further into the room, he was inundated with greetings and questions.

"If everyone could take a seat…thank you…I have spoken with Harry and learned what I could about his vision. Apparently, he saw Voldemort with Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Since Sirius is quite obviously not at the Ministry, I believe that Voldemort sought to lure Harry to the Ministry using Sirius as bait."

Various versions of "What are we going to do?" and "Why?" erupted from the group. However, they quieted instantly when he continued, "I intend to turn the tables on Voldemort so to speak. Tonks, Remus, I would like the pair of you to play the bait. Tonks, you will morph into Harry to convince the Death Eaters that their plan is working. Remus will accompany Tonks; his presence would not be entirely unexpected. Kingsley, I need you to discreetly prevent any more Aurors from leaving for the day and, if possible, recall those who might have already gone home."

"That should not pose a problem. I can simply convene a conference to discuss the progress made concerning the escaped Death Eaters," stated Kingsley.

"That will do admirably, Kingsley. If you could also keep their continued presence at the Ministry hidden, I would be most appreciative. We must not give any sign that we are aware of the planned attack."

"I believe I can manage that," assured Kingsley.

"It is my belief that the Death Eaters, rather than Voldemort himself, will be involved in the actual ambush. Most likely, they blended in with Ministry workers and visitors during the day and have simply secreted themselves near the Department of Mysteries. I have already asked Fawkes to conceal himself in the Hall of Prophecy when the time comes. When Remus and Tonks spring the trap, he will alert myself and Alastor who will be waiting close to the Ministry and Kingsley. At that point, Alastor will join Kingsley and other Aurors as they engage the Death Eaters. On the off chance that I am mistaken and Voldemort chooses to reveal himself or the Aurors are overwhelmed, I will remain outside the battle unless it becomes necessary."

"Are there any objections at this point?" asked Dumbledore, receiving none. "Harry reported that the vision showed Voldemort and Sirius located at row ninety-seven in the Hall of Prophecy. That will be your target position, Remus, Tonks. Kingsley, you will need to return to the Ministry immediately although I mean to postpone Remus' and Tonks' arrival until after the Ministry has been emptied. I do not want bystanders caught in the battle and it would have taken Harry some time to travel to the Ministry in any case."

When Dumbledore finished, Kingsley rose and said, "I will be waiting for your signal, Dumbledore," before making his way out of the room.

"In the meantime, I suggest that Alastor, Tonks, and Remus prepare themselves. As for the rest of the Order, I would like you to remain at Grimmauld Place with the exception of Emmeline. Emmeline, would you be so kind as to make an excuse to be at St. Mungo's? I would prefer it if an Order member was involved in treating any injuries that occur."

"Of course, Professor. It wouldn't be unthinkable for me to check on several of my patients. I'll leave right now." Emmeline waved goodbye and departed.

"If you'll excuse us…" said Remus as he and Tonks also got up. "Alastor?"

"Coming," growled the retired Auror. Together, the three retreated upstairs to alter Tonks' appearance and review the layout of the Department of Mysteries. This seemed to serve as a sign for the Order to break into smaller groups, conversing about the upcoming confrontation.

"Professor?" Dumbledore found Sirius at his side. "Is Harry alright?"

"He is fine, Sirius."

"I take it you wouldn't let me go to the Ministry," Sirius phrased it as a statement rather than a question.

"I'm afraid not, Sirius."

"Sirius," called Remus from the doorway, "could you and Molly come upstairs for a moment? We want to make sure Tonks looks exactly like Harry. Professor, would you like to come as well?"

"In a minute, Remus, thank you."

"We are in the first floor bedroom as it has a full length mirror." At Dumbledore's nod, Remus returned upstairs with Molly and Sirius in tow. Deciding to take advantage of the momentary lull, Albus climbed the stairs to the ground floor library. Once inside, he settled down in an armchair and extracted Minerva's letter from his pocket.

Activating the lion seal, Albus tapped it with his wand. Line by line, Minerva's handwriting materialized on the page. Lighting a table lamp with a touch, he began to read.

_Dear Albus,_

_I had hoped that this letter would be superfluous, but evidently events have progressed in such a fashion as to make it necessary. I know you wanted to avoid a decisive confrontation with the Ministry, fearing that it would cause an irreparable division of the community. However, my own beliefs and principles forbid me from allowing Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge to reign unchecked. If you are reading this, I have been removed from my post as Deputy and most likely arrested by the Ministry on charges of treason. Severus has doubtless already informed you of this fact as I requested. I have left instructions for the staff and I have every confidence in the Heads of Houses to carry on in my absence. As you know, it would be prudent if you could manage to return to Hogwarts at least until the end of the term to tend the wards. The Head's Office continues to refuse Dolores entrance so your chambers are still safe from her. _

_Albus, I must ask, no insist, that you do not interfere with my situation. I have already spoken with Jonathan Ashford regarding the possibility of my arrest. He has agreed to act as my representative and will do everything in his power to ensure a fair trial. Amelia Bones will probably preside over any proceeding herself and I believe she will welcome the chance to prove that the entire Ministry has not forgotten the laws which they are sworn to uphold. Moreover, I have already contacted, through Jonathan, Celeste Chevalier as well as several others who have pledged their support. I refuse to allow the likes of Dolores and Cornelius Fudge victory. You know how stubborn I can be. I have been in worse situations and emerged successful as you should remember. Have faith in me as I have had faith in you all these years. _

_Tell him, Albus. I wish we could permit him to retain the last vestiges of childhood a little longer, to give him the luxury of ignorance, but he needs to know the truth about why his parents died and why Riddle will never stop hunting him. He must be prepared. I do not believe in Divination as a method of either predicting the future or determining what actions one should take. Riddle, however, does and it guides his actions. Harry needs to understand this and that Riddle considers his fate dependant on Harry's. _

_I would ask you not to worry about me if I believed it would have any effect. Instead, I will merely request that you only worry as little as possible. Be well and try not to get yourself into any serious trouble while I'm otherwise occupied and cannot help you get out of said trouble._

_Yours,_

_Minerva McGonagall _

_P.S. I miss you. Furthermore, you left me to deal with __all__ of end of term paperwork and the Toad by myself. I expect repayment to begin with a very nice dinner and we can negotiate from there. _

Despite the looming battle, Albus found himself smiling at Minerva's letter. Since his departure and with the exception of his note regarding their chess match, they had not exchanged any direct communication. He relied upon tidbits from intermediaries to keep him informed of her wellbeing and activities_. _Although she had neatly foxed his plans, Albus felt no real anger towards her. He could not reasonably expect her to go against her conscience; he would be asking her to stop being herself. _Which is the very last thing I would want. _Smoothing out the creases, Albus reread the letter and heard Minerva's distinct timbre in every word and turn of phrase. He pictured her seated at her desk as she composed the letter. _Yes, I owe her quite a few dinners and chess games and conversations over tea for her and hot chocolate for me. I have always trusted you, Minerva, and my faith in you has never wavered even if I may not entirely agree with you this time. I will enjoy watching you thoroughly trounce Dolores. But I miss you too, my dear. Please be safe and come home soon. _

"Professor? I think it's about time," Remus' voice interrupted his reverie.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"What do you think, Professor?" asked Tonks as he emerged from the room. Someone had apparently scrounged up the appropriate clothing and charmed it fit her, or rather, Harry.

Scrutinizing her carefully, Dumbledore replied, "Very well done, Tonks."

"Thanks, Professor." Descending the stairs, Dumbledore along with Tonks, Sirius, and Remus came into the kitchen. Alastor pushed himself to his feet and joined them at the doorway.

"Ready, Dumbledore. Now remember you two 'constant vig–"

"vigilance. I _know_, Mad-eye. And don't worry, I haven't got my wand in my back pocket either," interrupted Tonks. "Although you never did tell us who you know who got a buttocks blown off, come to think of it. And would you all stop staring at me?" The question was directed to the rest of the Order who had been transfixed by Tonks' reincarnation as Harry.

"Sorry, Tonks, it's just really weird," said Bill Weasley. "You're going then?"

"I'm afraid so," said Dumbledore.

"Be careful, dears. Come back safely," fretted Molly. Her sentiments were echoed by those staying behind.

"We will Molly, don't worry," Remus reassured her. To calls of "Good luck" and "Don't get hurt" and one "if you see any of my cousins, Moony, tell them I said hello and give them a good kick in the ass from me," the four exited Grimmauld Place.

"I assume you will be entering the Ministry through the visitors' entrance, Remus?" inquired Dumbledore.

"Yes, Professor," answered Remus.

"Good. Fawkes," Dumbledore called. The phoenix appeared in a burst of flame and Dumbledore said, "Fawkes, I need to you conceal yourself as I requested earlier. Remember, alert Kingsley first and then Alastor and me." With an agreeing trill, Fawkes transported himself into the Hall of Prophecy and, dimming his brilliance to blend in with the shadows near the ceiling, settled down to await the ambush. Turning the Remus and Tonks, Dumbledore queried, "Are you prepared?" At their quiet affirmations, Dumbledore, "Row ninety-seven in the Hall of Prophecy. Alastor, Kingsley, and the rest of the Aurors will be at hand to support you as soon as the trap is sprung and I will be nearby. We will meet back at Grimmauld Place as soon as possible after the mission is completed. When you are ready…" A moment later, Tonks and Remus apparated a couple of blocks away from the visitors' entrance with broomsticks in their hands, having brought them from Grimmauld Place. Moody and Dumbledore disappeared as well to position themselves around the corner from the Ministry.

From his vantage point, Dumbledore saw Remus and Tonks utilize the phone booth to gain admittance. Shortly thereafter, Fawkes retrieved Alastor to join the ensuing battle. Dumbledore remained outside the Ministry, searching for any hint of Riddle's magical signature.

_There you are, Tom._ Far enough from the Ministry to avoid detection by the Ministry wards, Riddle seemed to be waiting for his Death Eaters to bring him the prophecy and Harry. _I believe you will be disappointed tonight, Tom. _With a thought, Albus brought himself within range of Riddle.

"Hello, Tom." Hissing, Tom whirled to face the Headmaster, wand in hand. Half hidden in the darkness of an abandoned warehouse, Tom's scarlet eyes burned to see his old Professor in the street before him. He glided forward, an extension of shadows. A bone white hand clutched his wand.

"Dumbledore. Come to save your precious child? How touching," he mocked, "You should have protected him better in the first place. It was so very easy to lead him into my trap. But, then, I have always found sentimental attachments to be the greatest weaknesses."

"And therein lies _your_ greatest weakness, Tom," replied Dumbledore calmly. "Leave this place." Even as Dumbledore spoke, Tom's expression twisted suddenly and he hissed again. "Your Death Eaters have failed in their mission and I suspect are currently appealing to you for aid. The tables have been turned, Tom. Your attempt to lure Harry here backfired."

"How does it feel, Dumbledore, to be abandoned by the community you have protected and coddled for so many long years? You could have been Minister and they would be bowing at your feet. Yet, here you are, an outcast and a criminal. Why do you continue to defend such faithless and worthless beings?"

"As long as there is still a spark of goodness shining deep within their hearts, I will protect them from enemies who seek to snuff that light out."

"You are a fool, Dumbledore," whispered Tom as he disapparated.

In the empty street, Dumbledore stared unseeing at the place Tom had stood, recalling the young boy from the orphanage he had once known and the young boy who has safe at Hogwarts with a lightning scar on his forehead. _Yes, I suppose I am a fool in your eyes, Tom. An old sentimental fool who believes in hope and love and other such nonsense. But I would not wish to be wise according to your calculations nor desire that which you desire. _Reaching out magically, Dumbledore confirmed that Riddle had indeed fled the area and then transported himself back to Grimmauld Place.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: This is somewhat of a shorter and hopefully humorous chapter as I work out the details of the forthcoming events. I promise to try to maintain my update schedule of once a week, but the creation of my own plotline is taking time to do properly and I am returning to school so my schedule will allow less time for writing. On the other hand, lullabymoon has kindly offered to proofread my chapters in advance to eliminate the occasional typos which I fail to catch myself.

Thank you to my reviewers. Reviewers provide the greatest encouragement possible for a writer.

Chapter 12:

It commenced well before breakfast. Teams of Gryffindors, armed with rolls of paper, snuck out of their common room early that morning. While dozens worked on the inside walls of Hogwarts, the Quidditch team and other flyers crept downstairs and out with their brooms in hand. With the assistance of Hermione, Lee Jordan, and Colin Creevey, Dean Thomas had worked diligently to create masterpieces fit for use in such an august establishment as Hogwarts. Additional plans had been concocted the night before and were intended to be put in motion throughout the following few days. Those with connections to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff such as Pavarti Patil, whose twin had been sorted into Ravenclaw, or Natalie McDonald, whose brother was in Hufflepuff, promised to help coordinate a combined strategy.

Pomona Sprout had also arisen early that morning to check on an experimental grafting of orchids. Humming to herself, she locked the greenhouse doors behind her. Dawn streaked the sky with soft blues and golds as she strolled back up towards the nearest side entrance. However, something caught her eye and she altered her course to circle around to the front of the castle.

"A little higher on the right, Katie!" called Angelina Johnson. She hovered several meters from the closed doors, directing Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Ginny Weasley, and Andrew Kirke. Johnson and Kirke held the upper corners of a massive sheet of paper while Weasley and Spinnet provided support along the top. Smiling broadly, Pomona watched them manipulate it into position on the right-hand door.

"It's off center," remarked Pomona. As one, the quintet whipped their heads to find her standing there. Trepidation and surprise marked their faces. "It needs to be shifted to the left." Flummoxed, the four holders obeyed her direction. "Yes, much better. Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning, Professor Sprout," chorused the five students, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

"I think I'll use one of the side entrances today. It's such a lovely morning that a short walk sounds wonderful. I'm glad to see you are taking advantage of it. Practicing your synchronization for next year's Quidditch season already? That's very diligent of you."

"Yes, Professor," said Angelina, grinning cheekily. "I thought I might as well give the next captain a little jumpstart on training."

"I'm sure that she or she will appreciate your thoughtfulness. Just remember that breakfast begins in about an hour. I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it. Our Headmistress likes to see everyone in attendance."

"Understood, Professor," replied Angelina. "We'll be there."

"Good. Have a good practice, students."

"Thank you, Professor," responded the team as Pomona meandered off in direction of the side entrance. Returning their attention to the paper, which covered almost the entire door, the Quidditch players affixed it to the surface. Together, they flew a few meters away and examined their work.

"I like it," declared Alicia.

"Umbridge is going to be furious," said Andrew without a hint of unhappiness at the thought.

"I certainly hope so," affirmed Ginny. "Let's get started on the other side." When they had finished their mission, similar gigantic sheets had been attached to any flat space on the outside walls of the castle and hung from the parapets.

Emerging from the dungeon staircase, Severus was greeted by the sight of Umbridge and Filch frantically tearing down posters from the walls of the Entrance Hall. Meanwhile, the students only bothered muting their laughter until they got into the Great Hall. A poster drifted across the floor to him and he picked it up. Before he tossed it aside, he suppressed a smirk at the depiction of the Umbridge eating a fly with the caption "Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit." The other posters showed related drawings of the Ministry imbecile.

At the staff table, the rest of the professors appeared positively gleeful. Pomona was gesturing to Aurora and Charity who were giggling at her description of her morning excursion. Filius smiled brightly at Severus when he sat down next to the Charms Professor. Severus noticed a roll of posters, halfway concealed by the tablecloth, at Flitwick's feet.

"Good morning, Severus. I think it promises to be a superb day, don't you?"

"I'll reserve judgment for now," answered Severus. "But, I suppose it's not impossible."

"Always the cynic," said Filius amused. "If you ever admitted to optimism, or smiled, I believe you would give everyone heart attacks." Ignoring Filius, Severus reached for the porridge.

After satisfying his initial hunger and a cup of black coffee, Severus asked Flitwick, "May I enquire as to why you have a roll of posters underneath the table?"

"I'm collecting them."

"Why?"

"Well, I couldn't allow Dolores to destroy such delightful artwork, could I?" At Severus' disbelieving look, Filius continued, "They are quite amusing. I am attempting to obtain at least one of each design. I also thought, since Minerva is not here, I would do her a favor and save her exemplars. In all likelihood, they were created by her Gryffindors after all."

"I assume that more than just the Entrance Hall is covered in these sketches?"

"Oh yes. They paper entire corridors as well as her classroom," Filius informed him. "And while I haven't had a chance to see it for myself, Pomona says the outside of the castle didn't escape notice." Pomona, who had overheard her name, caught Filius' words and leant towards the two.

"I don't think Dolores has been outside either. I would go before she does in case she manages to take them down," Pomona advised.

"Take what down?" demanded Severus.

"Well, our front doors now illustrate scenes from – what film did Charity say it was – I remember, _The Wizard of Oz_. Yes, that's right. They're very well done and complete with animation and color. On the left-hand door, Hogwarts falls on Dolores and the students stand in the background singing "Ding, dong, the Toad is dead." On the other side, Dolores seems to be melting as Minerva and the Headmaster throw buckets of water on her. The students are in the background of that one too. I don't entirely understand Muggle humor, but it still made me laugh." Pomona beamed fondly at the Gryffindor table. "I have a feeling that this is only the beginning. I do hope that all the posters will not be torn down by the end of the day."

"As do I," agreed Filius. "Neither Dolores or Argus can fly or aim particularly well so I believe the outside drawings are safe for the time being. Unfortunately, the posters on the inside have proven relatively easy for Dolores and Argus to remove."

"Which confirms my conclusion that the majority of our students lack intelligence or the ability to listen when I teach," said Severus, abruptly rising and heading out of the Great Hall. Filius and Pomona exchanged perplexed looks and then shook their heads, dismissing his actions as part of Severus' sometimes peculiar and mystifying behavior.

"Professor Snape, I insist you assist me in removing these… these… these insulting pieces of trash from the walls," screeched Dolores at the sight of Severus sweeping past her to the dungeon stairwell.

Severus paused and retorted unperturbedly, "I have a class to teach, Dolores. Besides, I'm sure a witch of your capabilities will have no trouble eradicating these papers. Of course, if you feel unequal to the task–"

"Never mind, Professor Snape, I will handle this myself," snapped Dolores.

"At least it appears the students did not think to use Borage's Sticking Solution," remarked Severus idly as he approached the stairs. "If they had, you would find it much more difficult to tear these down." Unbeknownst to Dolores and noted by Severus, Hermione fairly bounded up the main stairway after hearing this tidbit of information. Severus congratulated himself on his timing. He had marked Miss Granger's exit from the Great Hall and had ensured that she would overhear his discourse with Dolores.

* * *

"Good morning, Jonathan," said Minerva. The midmorning sun illuminated the dining table off the kitchen where the Transfiguration Mistress sat, perusing a tome he recognized as a treatise on magical law. Laying aside the quill with which she had been taking notes, she shook his hand. Except for the change in locale and the lightweight summer robes instead of her teaching set, she might have been seated in her office at Hogwarts, marking essays for all the serenity she exhibited. Auror Wright, who had escorted Jonathan into the house, excused himself politely and indicated that he would be in the library if needed.

"Good morning, Minerva," replied Jonathan. "How are you?"

"Well enough, Jonathan. And yourself?" Commandeering a seat beside her, Jonathan laid an armful of books and files on the table and placed his briefcase at his feet.

"Not too bad. Wright looked terrible. Have you been causing him grief?" teased Jonathan.

Glaring at him, Minerva scoffed, "I've been a model prisoner. No, I'm afraid the Aurors had a bit of a situation at the Ministry last night. Of course, theMinistry," she tapped the newspaper resting on the table, "hushed the whole matter up and the_ Daily_ _Prophet_ relegated it to three sentences buried on the twelfth page." She unfolded the paper and read, "'Late Wednesday night the Ministry successfully combated a minor breach of security. The Auror office foiled the plans of the as yet unknown assailants. It is suspected, report Ministry insiders, that Sirius Black, the notorious mass murderer, may be the architect of the attack.' Every time I think that their stupidity has reached its pinnacle, they surpass my expectations again." The paper skidded across the table as she tossed it away from her, almost falling off the table.

"Do you know what actually happened? I didn't have a chance to read the paper thoroughly so I had no idea that anything like that had occurred," inquired Jonathan curiously.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt stopped by earlier this morning, ostensibly to check on security. He gave me a full account. However, you cannot speak about this to anyone just yet. If you did, it would put a number of people and plans in jeopardy."

"I promise, not a word. Now, stop keeping me in suspense."

"According to Shacklebolt, a group of Death Eaters infiltrated the Ministry. Fortunately, certain individuals were forewarned of the attack and assembled enough Aurors to prevent them from attaining their goal. I understand that most of the Death Eaters escaped, although Thanatos Nott and Sebastian Jugson were captured. If the Aurors had not been at hand, the Ministry could have suffered serious damage as well as the loss of critical documents and information vital to the security of not only the Ministry, but the community at large."

"And they still refuse to acknowledge, or even admit to the possibility, that another war is imminent and that You-Know-Who has returned. Idiots," concluded Jonathan. "In any case, that is not my chief concern. We need to concentrate on your trial. I think it best that we move as quickly as possible. I do not want to allow the Ministry time to concoct evidence and witnesses or to influence the general public. Since I have been preparing for this eventuality, I merely need to interview a more few witnesses for your defense and put the finishing touches on the case. I have already spoken with the people on the list you provided and have received confirmation of their willingness to testify. Mostly, I need to talk to the students and staff of Hogwarts. Who would you suggest I begin with?" Opening a notepad, Jonathan took out a pen. When he saw Minerva glance at it and raise an eyebrow, he explained, "I hate messing around with ink bottles. I've ruined important files and days of work when I have failed to close the top tight enough. And pens write much smoother. You should try them."

"I have. They are, I suppose, more practical in some ways. Still, the quill continues to be the usual method and I don't mind bowing to tradition in this one matter. I usually use Self-Refilling ones in any case. You were asking who you should speak to at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I thought I would start with the Heads of Houses, but beyond that…who should I concentrate on and are there any specific questions I should be asking?"

"I would talk to Filius Flitwick first. As the senior Head of House in my absence, he should be receiving reports from the rest of the staff and can help you figure out whom to question about what. Dolores has made a number of comments regarding his lineage which might prove useful. He can also provide you with further documentation and evidence concerning the refusal of an appointed Head to Hogwarts and what that typically entails. Then, I would suggest Pomona Sprout. She is closer to the students; they are more likely to talk to her rather than any other Head of House. I would recommend speaking to Severus Snape after the other two. Severus has an aptitude for noticing minor details which Filius and Pomona might miss and understanding their significance. Additionally, Dolores believes him to be, if not an ally, at least neutral in regards to her rule and would probably assume that Severus would be pleased at my removal. Poppy Pomfrey, the matron, keeps a record of all injuries or maladies sustained by the students and staff during the school term. She can supply you with list of those caused by Dolores or her Inquisitorial Squad," answered Minerva.

"What about the rest of the staff?"

"I would talk to each of them individually. As I informed you a while ago, I requested the entire staff to begin registering Dolores' inappropriate actions in a personal log with the names of victims, perpetrators, and witnesses if possible as well as a description of the event. I have already turned over preliminary copies of their logs to you, but I suspect they will have added more infractions to the count since that time. Before you leave, it might be beneficial to have the staff discuss their accounts among themselves to ensure that every incidence has been recorded and to help make connections which would not be obvious to an individual member. Rubeus Hagrid is obviously unavailable, but you could contact Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank who filled in for him at the start of the year. As a relative outside, her perspective would be seen as less biased." Standing, Minerva declared, "I could use a cup of tea. Would you like one?"

"Yes, thank you." Minerva nodded, stepped into the kitchen, and reached for a steaming pot placed on the counter. Using a delicate tea strainer, she poured them each a cup.

"Sugar or milk?"

"One lump of sugar and a dash of milk please," replied Jonathan. Minerva followed his directions and then added a single cube to her own cup. Handing Jonathan his cup as she came back to the table, Minerva settled into her chair.

After a couple of sips, she resumed their conversation, "Even though Argus Filch supported Dolores, he could be useful to prove her liable for child abuse. I was informed that she authorized the use of whipping and other corporal punishments on the students although, as far as I know, that has not happened yet. I don't believe that he will think to deny it. He may even regret siding with Dolores at this point, considering that she cannot control the student body nor keep the school organized and tidy."

"That takes care of the staff. What about the students?"

"Begin with the Head Boy, Head Girl, and the prefects of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw," suggested Minerva.

"What about Slytherin House?" asked Jonathan.

"Most of the Slytherin prefects are members of the Inquisitorial Squad so I doubt they will be disposed to be cooperative."

"I may interview them anyway. They might accidentally reveal something and it would be good to get a handle on what Dolores has been telling them. Anyone else in particular?"

"Hermione Granger, one of the Gryffindor fifth year prefects. She is very observant and intelligent. The other students respect her and she would be able to identify the ones to whom you should speak," said Minerva. "Actually, I have a favor to ask of you regarding Miss Granger. When I discussed her future career choice with her, she seemed to be having trouble finding an occupation about which she felt passionately enough to dedicate her life to it. I believe she has an interest in the law and I would like her to have an opportunity to explore that option. Would you be willing to let her work with you for a little while? After the term ends with her consent and her parents' approval of course. She is one of my hardest workers and most promising students."

"Coming from you, that is very high praise indeed. I'll propose it to her when I visit Hogwarts," agreed Jonathan.

"Other than the prefects, I would talk with whoever either the staff or the prefects suggest have been singled out by Dolores. Not surprisingly, she targeted Harry Potter especially, but there were others who received an unfair amount of attention from her, mostly Muggleborns, Gryffindors, and any of the Weasley siblings. If you ask for volunteers, I'm certain you will have no trouble collecting tales of Dolores' cruelty and incompetence. I would not forget the ghosts or the house-elves. They tend to fade into the background and therefore most people overlook them. However, they often know a great deal about the inner workings of the castle and what goes on inside Hogwarts. I believe that covers everyone."

"I can't think of anyone else. Here, take a look at my list to make sure I've written everything down," he said, pushing the notepad over to her. Minerva scanned it and pronounced it complete. "Good. I want to be through. No loose ends or surprises."

"Do you know what day the trial will start?" inquired Minerva.

"It will probably begin on the 29th, which is not this coming Monday, but the Monday after that. That gives us about ten days to prepare. I will have to work quickly, but it's feasible. My assistant has already informed the witnesses who are traveling significant distances of the date and has arranged accommodations for them before and during the trial. We will be ready."

"When do you intend to visit Hogwarts?"

"Tomorrow. I see no reason to wait since those interviews will be critical. Also, I received an owl from Madam Bones before I came here, and she notified me that she has to send a couple of Aurors to search your quarters and office tomorrow. She has assured me that the pair chosen will be discreet and respectful. I think she said she would request," he flipped the pages of the notepad, "Nymphadora Tonks and Amanda MacDougal. Since I would wish to supervise the search, I decided to simply make one trip instead of two. As it will be Saturday, I will not have to try to work around class schedules either. In case I am not able to interview everyone Saturday, I can easily return Sunday to finish."

"Would you pass along my greetings to the staff and students?" asked Minerva. "I would also like to know how they are managing in my absence. I had wanted to prevent this from happening until the end of term; unfortunately, nothing this year has seemed to occur according to plan. I didn't wish to abandon the students and staff."

"I'll be sure to do that," Jonathan promised her. "I'm sure they are doing just fine. You have given them a strong example to follow and doubtless left a thick stack of detailed instructions for the staff with preparations for every eventuality."

"Several stacks actually," replied Minerva dryly. Jonathan chuckled and drew her into a discussion of the stratagem for the trial itself.

* * *

"Professor Flitwick?" Hearing Anthony Goldstein's call, Flitwick waited for his prefect to catch up to him, keeping a stack of files floating in the air next to him.

"How can I help you, Mr. Goldstein?" asked Flitwick as Anthony drew even with him.

"Well…Professor, I just wanted to suggest that you… er… take your time getting to lunch," hemmed and hawed Goldstein.

"Is there something I should know, Mr. Goldstein?"

"It's probably better if you don't ask, Professor. Just come late, please? If you could prevent the other professors from going into the Great Hall until after noon, that would be good. Thanks, Professor," said Anthony quickly before rushing off down the hallway. Bemused by his student's behavior, Filius continued on his way to the staff room. Dolores now preferred to retreat to her office rather than face the icy environment of the staff room so the other professors had resumed working and congregating in it. Filius intended to spend the hour before lunch tackling the supply requests for next year.

Entering the staff room, Filius saw Severus already installed at his desk, an uncommon occurrence as he generally worked in his office, and Aurora stretched out on the sofa with an Astronomy journal.

"Severus, not that you are not welcome here, but why are you not in your office?" Flitwick asked as he sat down behind his desk.

"I have reached my quota of idiocy for the week," said Severus.

"In other words, he's avoiding our _dear_ Headmistress and being in his office makes him easy for her to find," interpreted Aurora. Snape glared at her. Aurora ignored him.

"I was recently informed by a considerate student that it would be best if I was intentionally tardy to lunch. Would either of you know anything about that?" inquired Filius.

"No."

"Not a clue," answered Aurora. "I would bet five galleons that they're planning something to do with, or to, the Toad. Hope it's something awful."

"On the chance that you are right, Aurora, it would be irresponsible of the staff to be absent entirely from the event. We would only interfere if things went too far, of course," remarked Filius.

"You are absolutely right, Filius. We must attend. What do you say, Severus?"

"If the senior Head of House believes it to be necessary, Aurora, I will comply," responded the Potions master with the faintest trace of a smirk lurking on his face. The three professors returned to their individual pursuits until shortly before the twelve o'clock hour. At that time, they headed downstairs to the Great Hall.

"Where are all the students?" wondered Aurora. "They're usually scrambling around to get to lunch."

"Aurora, do I look like a crystal ball to you?" snipped Severus. "Don't ask questions to which we obviously don't have the answer." Aurora rolled her eyes in response. Reaching the ground floor, the trio found the rest of the staff gathering outside the Great Hall doors.

"Dolores has already gone inside," Septima told them, having peeked through the small opening. "As far as I can see, practically all the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs are present too. Some of the Slytherins are still missing. Anyone have any idea what they're up to?" Collectively, the professors replied in the negative. Septima risked another glance into the Great Hall. "Well, I can't see much this way. Does anybody have a better idea?"

"Allow me," offered Filius, moving forward. After a few moments, two mirrors, one palm sized and the other the size of a blackboard appeared. The small mirror hovered in the gap between the doors while the large one set itself against the opposite wall. Another spell shimmered across the large mirror's surface, creating a reflection of the Great Hall. At the staff table, Dolores sat alone in her repugnant pink cardigan over her robes. While she endeavored to retain her haughty demeanor, Filius observed the slight twitching of her head that indicated her nervousness. Beneath her, students packed the tables of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Yet, instead of the normal boisterous chatter of hundreds of students, the Great Hall was almost utterly and eerily silent. Even the Slytherin table, which was still only two-thirds full, appeared to have absorbed the hush that covered the rest of the students.

"This cannot be good for Dolores," declared Aurora. "Filius, would it be possible to record whatever happens next?"

"Certainly, Aurora. For educational purposes only, naturally, in order to use as training for future professors," consented Filius, flicking his wand.

"We wouldn't dream of using for any other purpose, would we?" asked Septima. The rest of the staff quickly agreed.

Inside the Great Hall, Hermione Granger assessed the readiness of the troops. Judging by the dearth of professors, the messengers had successfully completed their mission to clear the field of non-targets. Arranged in a predetermined order, the students awaited the signal to open fire. They were ranked according to height with sharpshooters from the Quidditch teams stationed in places to maximize their effectiveness. Their ammunition, provided by their allies in the kitchens below, rested in baskets hidden by the tables. Out of consideration, Hermione had mandated clearance from those allies before approving the mission. The allies, however, had assured her of their willingness to allow the mission to proceed as planned and the ease of the cleanup which would follow. A few students fidgeted, but otherwise, the entire militia held themselves prepared to launch the attack.

Dong! Dong! Dong! The students arose as one unit.

Dong! Dong! Dong! Missiles in hands concealed behind their backs, they fanned out and pressed forward to form solid lines, maneuvering as close as possible to the staff table. Certain appointed soldiers positioned baskets within the ranks to supply additional ammunition as needed.

Dong! Dong! Dong! Dolores, perhaps finally gathering the wits to perceive her danger, glanced at the side exit and then stepped towards it in an effort to escape. A heavy ominous thud echoed through the hall before she had taken three steps when the door swung shut. During this time, most of the Slytherins had chosen to exercise their survival instincts and fled the battlefield, scarcely noticing the assembled professors as they raced for the safety of their common room.

Dong!

"What do you think you're doing?" screeched Dolores. Silence answered her.

Dong!

"I insist you take your seats immediately or I will put you all in detention!" No reply, only mute stares.

Dong!

"Stop it! Stop it! I am a member of the Minis –" SPLAT! SPLAT! SPALT! Tomatoes sailed through the air from every direction to plaster themselves upon Dolores. Seeds and juice coated her hair, dripped down her robes, and stained her face. Cheers and hoots shook the rafters as the students unleashed their assault upon the Toad.

Within seconds, tomato juice and mash drenched Dolores' figure. She spluttered at them as she peeled her hair away from her eyes.

"You little beasts… you, you, you…. wretched, despicable, abominable beasts… when I get my hands on you… you'll be sorry! You'll wish you had never been born! I'll hang you from the ceilings! I'll drown you in the lake. You'll beg me to stop!"

Instead of appearing the least bit frightened by these threats, the students grinned fiendishly. Throughout her tirade, the students had shifted formation, placing the younger and more vulnerable students at the back of the force to protect them from counterattack.

"Here he is!" cried one of the Hufflepuff first years. Soaring into the Great Hall, Peeves the Poltergeist cackled as he zoomed closer and closer to the target. The poltergeist bore an enormous bucket in his hands.

"Peeves! Peeves! PEEVES! PEEVES!" chanted the students. Dolores stood rooted to the spot, her eyes wide and face white underneath the tomato debris.

"Peevsie has a gift for Professor Umbridge! Peevsie thinks you miss home so Peevsie has brought you a special present from the lake!" shouted Peeves when he was directly over Dolores. Still paralyzed, Dolores craned her neck back to look at him.

"Do it! DO IT! DO IT!" shouted the students.

Peeves emptied the bucket over Dolores. A mud waterfall immersed Dolores in its flow. Once again, a deafening roar erupted from the legion of students. Before Dolores could recover herself, they streamed out of the Great Hall, heading for their common rooms and the lunch waiting for them there. Several of them called cheery greetings to the professors in the Entrance Hall as they passed. Overcome with laughter, many of the staff sagged weakly against the wall and were unable to respond. Only Severus remained outwardly stoic; yet, although it could have been a trick of the light, a minute upturn at the corners of his mouth suggested the slightest hint of amusement to the very observant. Fortunately for the Potions master, this aberration occurred unnoticed by the rest of the staff as they were thoroughly occupied with the business of mirth and because the keenest eyes, those of Minerva, were absent from the company.

"Professors?" Velda, who had appeared next to Flitwick, attracted their attention, "Your lunch will be served in the staff room today."

"Thank you, Velda," replied Filius. With a crack, the house-elf vanished. "Shall we?" Discussion of Dolores' state, interspersed with laughter, followed the professors up to the staff room and continued right through an exceptionally tasty lunch. The house-elves had solicitously assembled each professor's favorite meal.

Dolores eventually managed to emerge from the Great Hall. Coated in mud and tomato, she lumbered to her quarters, swearing revenge and trailing goop the entire way. She did not venture forth again that day.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Thanks to both my reviewers and my editor, lullabymoon, who checks for those little (and not so little) typos and mistakes.

Chapter 13:

"Professor McGonagall? We're almost ready."

"Thank you, Shacklebolt." With a firm snap, the door closed behind the Auror, leaving Minerva to her own thoughts and anxieties. Outside, somewhere, Jonathan would be greeting and checking in with the witnesses, spectators, and members of the Wizengamot. Minerva, however, waited alone in a small chamber for the Aurors to escort her into the courtroom in a few short minutes. In the meantime, Minerva found herself unexpectedly restless, pacing back and forth in the narrow confines of the space. Encased in cold gray stone, she felt trapped, suddenly and acutely aware of her fate should she and Jonathan fail – Azkaban or exile. To be forced to endure Azkaban, bereft of dementors yet still emanating their fear and despair from the rocks of its foundation and cells, or to be forced to flee, abandoning her students and friends to the mercies of Dolores Umbridge, the Ministry, and Voldemort. _You will succeed,_ Minerva commanded herself. _There is no other acceptable option. You must win. _

Casting herself into the lone straight-backed chair, Minerva brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her emerald robes. Her right hand automatically grazed her left sleeve, searching for her wand. When she discovered and remembered its absence, a prickle of uneasiness jolted through her system. _Never, ever be without your wand. I don't care if you are accomplished in wandless magic. I don't care if you think you're safe. After your brain, your best weapon is your wand. Do not let it be taken from you! _Reverberating in her head, the words of her former trainer haunted her. Over and over, her trainer had drilled her to hardwire that single principle into her consciousness, forcing her to keep practicing until she learned to cling to her wand despite any attempt to separate her and it. At the Epping Forest house, she had missed its familiar weight and the convenience, but now, about to walk into the fire, the empty sheath disturbed her.

_You knew that this was never supposed to be a firefight. This is not a question of might. It is a question of morality and the law. Even Fudge, as thick as he is, would not dare harm you in the midst of a crowded courtroom. _Yet Minerva traced the contours of the sheath and then the brooch attached to her shoulder with a pounding heart. What ifs chased each other in her mind.

Absorbed in her speculations, she failed to hear the creak of the door opening. Jonathan Ashford, robbed in the traditional austere black robes of an advocate, cleared his throat to gain her attention, causing Minerva's head to jerk upwards.

"Everything is ready. I'll be inside the courtroom. Aurors Wright and MacDougal will be your escorts."

"Thank you, Jonathan."

"We can do this, Minerva. I'm sure of it. Fudge and the Toad don't stand a chance," Jonathan assured her fervently, noticing her discomfort.

"The Toad?" questioned Minerva, a tiny smile appearing on her lips.

"That's what the students called her when I interviewed them," replied Jonathan. "I thought it was appropriate."

"I knew that, Jonathan. I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised at your use of it."

"Probably not. Naturally, in the courtroom, I will exercise all respect due to Headmistress Umbridge," he said sarcastically with a little bow.

"That would be difficult, considering our objective to reveal her as incompetent, immoral, and criminal."

"You're right as usual." A knock on the door heralded Auror MacDougal's entrance.

"Mr. Ashford, you should be in the courtroom at this time," she announced.

"Yes, thank you. I'll see you in a minute, Minerva." With a nod to the Aurors, Jonathan headed in the direction of the entrance of the Wizengamot chambers. After a few moments, Auror Wright appeared next to MacDougal in the doorway.

"Professor McGonagall? If you would come this way?" Wright gestured for her to precede him and MacDougal.

"Very well, Mr. Wright." Rising, Minerva smoothed out her robes, spine perfectly erect, and strode down the corridor to the heavy wooden door to the Wizengamot Courtroom Eight, the two Aurors trailing behind her. The distinct clacking of their boots echoed off the stones of the hallway and the quiet swish of their robes sounded loud in the silence. At the door, Auror Wright stepped forward to draw it open.

"Good luck, Professor," he murmured.

"Thank you, Mr. Wright." Hearing her name called from within the chamber, Minerva crossed the threshold into the courtroom without the slightest hint of hesitation in her tread.

People crowded the courtroom, filling every seat all the way up to the highest rows shadowed by the ceiling. In addition to the Ministry officials and the Wizengamot, Hogwarts staff, students, parents, grandparents, foreign wizards and witches, proprietors of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley shops, and an assortment of other interested parties caused the room to buzz with their excited mutterings and whispers. Seated in the second tiered row, Minerva espied the staff: Filius in pale blue, Pomona next in him in soft yellow, Septima, Rolanda, Aurora, the entire staff including, to her astonishment, Binns. Severus, at the end of the row in his habitual black robes, caught her gaze and inclined his head a fraction when she focused on him. Behind the professors, the students and their families comprised a solid half of the spectators. Augusta Longbottom, with Neville in tow, sat next to Andromeda and Ted Tonks on the third level while the Patil family chatted with the Browns on the fifth level. Vivid in blinding robes of neon orange, Luna Lovegood and her father gesticulated widely at Lee Jordan and his father who wore expressions of befuddlement. Remarkably, many of the parents of her Muggle-born students were in attendance, their presence no doubt secured by Jonathan Ashford. Leaning down from the fourth level, Judy Hawkin's parents conversed with the Grangers on the third level. Next to the Grangers, the Weasley family extended along the row. She noted that Charlie Weasley appeared to have returned from Romania and Harry was scrunched between Ronald and one of the twins, but she unable to determine which twin at this distance. Hermione sat on the other side of Ronald beside her parents.

Beyond the students' families, rough groupings segregated the rest of the observers. She immediately recognized the Deputy Head of Beauxbatons, the Headmistress of the Salem Institute, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of the National Magical Academies of Spain and of Italy respectively, the Head of the Academy of the Arcane Arts of India as well as several additional various representatives from other magical schools. Additionally, specialists in Transfiguration, Defense against the Dark Arts, and in magical education had clustered together alongside this faction. In the upper levels, a mixture of agents from international organizations offered nods and a few abbreviated waves. Arranged close to the Weasleys, the remaining members of the Order including Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, acknowledged her with varied gestures.

Observing this display of support from the magical community, Minerva reached the chain encircled chair. Acting unconcerned, she settled herself into the chair. The entire courtroom seemed to pause to see if the chains snaked up her arms to bind her. Dolores Umbridge leaned forward from her position on the first row directly in front of Minerva with an expression of great anticipation.

Her face fell, as the chains lay dormant, utterly lifeless. Not even a single link of the chains rattled to announce its movement. If Minerva was relieved, she failed to show it. At her right, seated behind a small table covered in files and other paraphernalia, Jonathan breathed out a quiet sigh.

"I hereby call this trial to order on the 29th of June, 1996," began Madam Bones, "Interrogators: Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement presiding, Minister of Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge, and Dolores Jane Umbridge, appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts school. Court Scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley. Witness for the Defense: Jonathan Ashford, Advocate of the International Magical Office of Law. You are Professor Minerva McGonagall, resident of Hogwarts Castle?"

"I am," answered Minerva.

"Hem, hem," interrupted Dolores, "As of Education Decree number thirty, Minerva McGonagall has been stripped of her position at Hogwarts and is therefore not entitled to use that honorific." She sneered triumphantly at McGonagall. Rather than becoming terribly upset, Minerva considered the report of the students' reactions to that decree as passed on to her by Hermione Granger through Jonathan. Apparently, it had involved working their way through _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More)_ over the course of three days until their spellwork had been perfected. _It's a pity that their everyday coursework fails to inspire such dedication, _Minerva thought. Nevertheless, the response had cheered her when she had learned of it. Amid those in attendances, whispers broke out, expressing their shock and anger.

"In that case, the proper title would be Madam," Jonathan informed the court.

"Of course, Mr. Ashford," agreed Bones. "Madam McGonagall, you have been charged of treason against the Ministry of Magic. How do you plead?"

"Innocent." At this assertion, Dolores and Fudge exchanged incredulous looks.

"So entered," acknowledge Bones.

"Miss McGonagall-" started Fudge, but Jonathan corrected him instantly.

"_Madam_ McGonagall, Minister, if you please."

Clenching his jaw, Fudge managed to spit out, "_Madam _McGonagall, you deny the accusations laid against you in their entirety then?"

"I do."

"You deny that you plotted to overturn this Ministry, the government of the Wizarding Britain? You deny that you undermined the Ministry at every opportunity? That you conspired and aided traitors to this institution and everything for which it symbolizes?" accused Fudge, the volume and fervor of his voice increasing as he spoke until it beat against the walls of the chamber. He was breathing heavily by the time he finished, pressing against the railing as he stared down at her.

"I certainly do." In contrast to Fudge's tones, Minerva's voice rang out clearly, reaching the farthest rows without resorting to a shouting volume.

"If you have any proofs of these allegations, Minister," interjected Ashford, "by all means, please present them. If not, as I strongly suspect, I suggest you desist from wasting any more of our time with senseless accusations and drop this whole charade." Both Fudge and Umbridge colored at this proposal.

"No evidence?" exclaimed Umbridge. "We have significant evidence, Mr. Ashford. More than enough to convict McGonagall of the crimes for which she has been indicted."

"Then, perhaps, we could move forward and address that evidence, instead of shouting at the defendant? And I would remind you that the proper form of address is Madam," remarked Ashford.

"Mr. Ashford has made a valid point, Minister," said Madam Bones. "The Wizengamot must hear the evidence against Madam McGonagall. In case you have forgotten, we subscribe to the policy of innocent until proven guilty."

"In that case, I ask Madam Umbridge to recount the events of the night of the Wednesday the 17th of June," replied Fudge.

"Certainly, Minister," consented Umbridge sanctimoniously. "On the morning of the 17th, I approached the Minister with my concerns about the presence of Rubeus Hagrid, a known half-giant and associate of Albus Dumbledore, on the Hogwarts grounds. I requested that five Aurors come to Hogwarts that evening to remove the problem, for the safety of the students of course. I think we all can agree that things like him do not belong on a school campus." She glanced around for encouragement, but found very little in the faces of her audience.

"Hem, hem… well, I met the Aurors at the gates around midnight and we crossed the grounds to the half-giant's… hut. The Aurors instructed him to step outside and proceeded to attempt to take him into custody. Instead of surrendering to the Ministry, he chose to fight. In the middle of the ensuing battle, _Madam_," the inflection on the word made her loathing for Minerva exceedingly apparent, "McGonagall intervened, enabling him to escape. Therefore, she is obviously just as guilty of treason as that half-breed is. She even drew her wand against the Aurors and myself!" screeched Umbridge.

"Mr. Ashford, do you have any questions?" enquired Bones.

"Many, Madam Bones. First, I request that the Aurors involved in this incidence be summoned to this courtroom, if they are not already present, that I may question them. I have a list here: Aurors Gavin Dawlish, Franklin Moore, Yale Castor, Mark Davidson, and Patrick Mills." Madam Bones nodded and directed an assistant sitting behind her to locate the Aurors and bring them to the courtroom floor immediately. Dawlish and Moore, who had been seated in one of the rows behind Bones, descended the stairs to the floor to join the other three Aurors when they arrived.

"Gentlemen, we have just heard Headmistress Umbridge's account of the events directly preceding Madam McGonagall's arrest. Would you care to add anything to her statements to ensure that the court has a complete and factual understanding of the incident?" asked Jonathan. Sharing glances among themselves, Auror Moore broke the silence.

"I'm afraid that Headmistress Umbridge might be slightly mistaken on several important details, Mr. Ashford," he said and stopped, looking at Umbridge and the Minister a little anxiously.

"Please continue, Mr. Moore," Madam Bones prompted. "I'm sure that you believe Headmistress Umbridge's mistakes are merely errors in memory such as anyone might make. She and the Minister will naturally support any attempt to provide a true account of the incidence. Whatever you say will not be held against you," Bones finished with a pointed glare at Umbridge who had opened her mouth to speak. Umbridge clamped her mouth shut and grudgingly nodded.

"Yes. Thank you, Madam Bones. On the night in question, the Minister instructed the five of us to assist Dolores Umbridge and made it understood that we were to follow her orders. She demanded that we remove Rubeus Hagrid from Hogwarts and place him in Azkaban. After we informed him of our intentions, he tried to escape and we resorted to trying to force his compliance with spells. However, it appears he is somewhat impervious to the standard curses and continued to resist us. At that point, Pro-, excuse me, Madam McGonagall approached us. I believe she was uninformed of our presence on the grounds. She asked us what we were doing and our lack of attention to Rubeus Hagrid during this time resulted in his escape. In my personal opinion, Madam McGonagall was not the one responsible for his escape. I admit that it was our fault instead."

"I agree with my colleague," offered Davidson.

"Mr. Mills, Mr. Castor, Mr. Dawlish what are your thoughts on the matter?" Jonathan queried the other three Aurors.

"Unfortunately, it seems as if the five of us may need to go through some remedial training as I think that Mr. Moore and Mr. Davidson are correct," confessed Castor.

"Definitely," added Mills. Dawlish stayed silent.

"Thank you, gentlemen. However, I would like to call to your attention a couple of details in your reports," said Jonathan, selecting a file and extracting a piece of parchment. "Could you tell the court the justification for the removal of Rubeus Hagrid from Hogwarts?"

Davidson replied, "We were only told that he was suspected to be supporting Albus Dumbledore, who had been charged with treason and to remove him to Azkaban."

"Were you aware of any activities Mr. Hagrid was participating in towards that end?"

"No," replied Moore. "We were not informed of any such actions."

"In your own judgment, did he pose any immediate threat to the students or the Ministry or anyone else?"

"Not in my estimation," said Davidson.

"I see. So your actions were not based on any evidence of actual active treason or threat, but on the orders of Headmistress Umbridge." Jonathan paused to allow that to sink in, before addressing Minerva directly, "Madam McGonagall, would you please explain what you intended when you approached the Aurors?"

"One of my students reported strangers on the grounds. As I had not been notified of the Aurors' arrival and considering the lateness of the hour, I immediately investigated the situation. Until I drew near, I had no way of knowing for certain whom they were or what they were trying to accomplish by apparently attacking one of my fellow staff members. I needed to know their identities and their purpose for security reasons."

"I think that the court will agree that Madam McGonagall was acting out of concern for her students' and colleague's safety and wellbeing rather than anything more sinister," declared Jonathan. "Instead of receiving an explanation, she barely avoided being struck by four Stunners, despite the fact that her wand was **not** in her hand, and was subsequently arrested." When Ashford said "four Stunners," Minerva felt a sudden powerful flash of fury erupt in the room.

"Four Stunners?" cried out a wizard on the second row, the emblem of a snake twined around an upright wand and bone on his purple robes and a faint, but distinct, French accent. "That could have been fatal." Gasps, whispers, and hushed exclamations of shock, anger, and disbelief rippled through the crowd.

"Precisely, Healer Chevalier, precisely." Minerva had ignored this dialogue, surreptitiously scanning the room and attempting to identify the outburst of emotion and power she had sensed. _No… he wouldn't dare...would he? _Her breath caught as her eyes flickered over the highest row of the right-hand corner. _Damn it, he did. The brooch dampened my magic severely enough to prevent me from sensing even him._ Partially obscured by shadow, a quite average looking man with short brown hair and drab gray robes glared fiercely at the assembled Aurors and Umbridge. _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have demonstrated exactly __why__ other Houses call Gryffindors impulsive and foolhardy. You should have stayed away. What would happen if they caught you? I am perfectly fine and not without help should I require it. _Quickly refocusing her attention back on Jonathan, Minerva conceded that she really shouldn't have expected anything different from Albus. He possessed a worrying tendency to put his own welfare last and she suspected he could not bear to be forced to rely on secondhand accounts when it involved her. Attending the trial was his only real means of participation. In spite of her apprehension about the possibility of his recognition and capture, which would probably ruin both of them at this stage, the coils of tension in her body unwound themselves a little. She suddenly realized how acutely she had missed his familiar presence although she could no longer feel his magical aura since he had curbed his burst of emotional power.

"As Healer Chevalier, the Head of Staff for the National Magical Hospital of France, revealed, four Stunners represented a serious, potentially lethal, danger to Madam McGonagall," continued Jonathan. "Mr. Moore, Madam McGonagall only drew her wand after the Stunners were cast, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you would support the conclusion that she drew her wand in self-defense?"

"Yes, absolutely yes."

"Mr. Castor, did Madam McGonagall cast any spells?"

"Yes, a Shield Charm."

"No other spell of any kind? Nothing offensive?" probed Ashford.

"No," stated Castor firmly, "just a Shield Charm and she immediately sheathed her wand upon request."

"According to my records, Madam McGonagall never said anything which could be construed as an admittance of guilt or complicity in treachery. Is this true, Mr. Dawlish, Mr. Moore? The two of you were with her the entire time, I believe."

"Yes, that's correct. Madam McGonagall never made any declarations which I thought to be evidence of treason," avowed Moore.

"Mr. Dawlish?"

"No, she did not confess," said Dawlish curtly, coerced into speaking for the first time. Throughout the Aurors' questioning, he had seemed rather torn, his gaze shifting between his Ministry superiors, his fellow Aurors, Ashford, and McGonagall.

Jonathan scanned his notations and announced, "I think I have addressed all of Headmistress Umbridge's … inaccuracies. Is there anything else you feel it pertinent to mention?" After receiving negative responses, Jonathan said, "Thank you for your time, gentlemen." The Aurors filled out to return to their work or, if they could, climbed the stairs to watch the rest of the trial.

"I'm done for now, Madam Bones," said Jonathan, seating himself behind the table.

"Very enlightening, Mr. Ashford." Bones turned to Fudge and Dolores whose features had steadily become puffed up and red during Jonathan's questioning of the Aurors. Several times, both of them had made attempts to interrupt him or the Aurors, but Bones had immediately caught and silenced them with a hard glare and deliberate clearing of her throat. "Do you have further evidence to present?"

"Yes, yes," shrieked Umbridge, "_Madam_ McGonagall has consistently undermined my authority and the Educational Decrees at Hogwarts. She has encouraged the students to rebel and has refused to recognize my superiority throughout the entire school year."

"May I ask how?" asked one of the Wizengamot members, a bespectacled woman with curly black hair.

"Excuse me?" replied Umbridge indignantly.

"Through what means has Madam McGonagall carried out this campaign against you, and more specifically against the Ministry, keeping in mind that the two are not necessarily the same thing?" elaborated Bones.

"She defied my authority and the Educational Decrees," repeated Umbridge.

"The court requires the particulars. How exactly did Madam McGonagall challenge you and the Ministry?" demanded Ashford. "Did she tell the students to ignore the Educational Decrees?"

"I'm sure she did so out of my hearing," huffed Umbridge.

"If it was out of your hearing, how can you know for sure?" Umbridge sputtered. "Did you ever personally witness her giving the students her approval to break school rules or the Educational Decrees?" Umbridge started to launch into a tirade, but Ashford cut her off, "Yes or no will suffice."

"No, but -"

"Did she herself break the Educational Decrees or participate in activities intended to chase you out of Hogwarts in your personal observations?"

"Well, she -"

"Yes or no," Jonathan reminded her, getting to his feet and walking around the table. He pinned Umbridge with his gaze.

"No, but-"

"Did any of the students report something specific and verifiable to you?" shot Ashford.

"No, but -"

"Then I would be very interested to know how you can accuse her of subverting you and the Ministry if you never actually witnessed or received reports of this." Jonathan leant backwards against the table, gripping the edge with his hands and peering at Umbridge.

"She criticized my teaching and my decisions!" shouted Umbridge, jumping to her feet.

"And it never occurred to you that, as the Deputy Headmistress and the longest serving professor of Hogwarts, Madam McGonagall might have been simply trying to offer guidance to the newest staff member and to help you learn the ropes so to speak?" questioned Ashford bluntly. "You have no teaching experience and, according to your file, only a cursory familiarity with Defense Against the Dark Arts. In fact, you failed to obtain even a N.E.W.T in the subject. Considering those facts -"

"How DARE you!" screeched Umbridge. "How dare you question my capabilities! I was appointed by the Minister of Magic himself!" Spit flew from her mouth as she pressed against the railing.

Completely unfazed, Jonathan responded, "Regardless of that fact, it appears that her concerns about your ability to perform the duties of a professor and then of a Head of Hogwarts were at least partially justified. By your own admittance, the students were able to cause significant trouble for you." Lips flapping like a fish thrown onto dry land, Umbridge spluttered.

"I'll take that as a yes. Madam Bones, I submit that the prosecution has yet to prove they possess any viable evidence on which to sustain this charge," proclaimed Ashford, stepping towards Madam Bones. "I request that the charges be dismissed."

"Not yet, Mr. Ashford," Cornelius Fudge finally spoke. "We have proof of her collaboration with Albus Dumbledore who confessed, in my presence, to building an army to overthrow the Ministry. We have his confession on record. And she is as guilty of treason as he is!"

"Then I suggest you show the court this proof, Minister," replied Madam Bones.

"Weasley!" barked Fudge. Leaping up, Percy scrambled down the stairs and rushed out of the chamber. As they waited, Jonathan walked over to Minerva and bent his head close to hers.

"Do you have any idea what he is talking about, Minerva?" he whispered.

"None, Jonathan." Minerva searched her memory, trying to recall something which would cause Fudge's and Umbridge's eyes to gleam that intensely. _What in Merlin's name could they have? Jonathan said the Aurors admitted to finding nothing incriminating in my quarters or office which means they failed to discover the Order reports. I sincerely doubt that Umbridge managed to force her way into the Head's Office, much less find my letter to Albus, realize what it was, and break the enchantment I placed upon it. Other than that…what possible proof could they have?_ "I can't think of a single concrete shred of evidence that could implicate me." Brows furrowed, Jonathan straightened and blew out a heavy sigh.

"I _hate_ surprises," he muttered.

Bustling back into the courtroom, Percy hurtled up the stairs and tendered a large sealed envelope to the Minister. Fudge broke the seal, extracting three pieces of parchment.

With a snort, his attempt to clear his throat, Fudge announced, "These should provide all the proof the court needs to convict Madam McGonagall of treason. Before I read them, I would like to offer Madam McGonagall a last chance to confess of her own accord in remembrance of her service to this community. It would be understandable if, under pressure from her superior, Albus Dumbledore, she acted against the Ministry." As the words oozed from his mouth, Minerva began to shake, digging her nails into the wood of the chair arms. Fudge smiled in a mockery of kindness at her, "If that was the case, you could not be held fully responsible for you behavior, provided that you prove your loyalty to the Ministry now."

"How, might I inquire, would I prove my loyalty to the Ministry?" The edge of each word cut through the dead silence. Every eye in the courtroom fixated upon the Deputy Headmistress and the Minister as Minerva rose to her feet.

"A complete confession as well as revealing any information you may have concerning the whereabouts and activities of Albus Dumbledore. The Ministry would also require your assistance in capturing him. Once he is in custody and the Ministry is satisfied with your reparations, the charges will be dropped and you will be released." The Minister looked at her expectantly.

Pinpricks of pain sparked in the palms of her hands as a couple of her nails pierced the skin. Drawing in shallow breaths, Minerva froze, her vision clouding over. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Jonathan starting to speak and gestured for him to be quiet. Heeding her, Jonathan took a step backwards, placing himself slightly behind her.

_Do not lose your temper. Do not lose your temper. Calm down. You __cannot__ lose your temper here. You must calm down._ Over and over, Minerva repeated her mantra to herself until she managed to relax her fists enough to extricate her nails from her skin. She pressed her hands to her robe; the dark emerald would hide the small traces of blood. Had it not been for the absence of her wand and the binding of the brooch, Cornelius Oswald Fudge would have found himself living out the remainder of his days as a cockroach. As it was, Minerva struggled to bring the raging waves of wrath under control for several long moments while collected witches and wizards murmured and muttered to their neighbors without taking their eyes off the Transfiguration Mistress.

"Minister, I reject your proposal utterly and completely." In the face of her fiery gaze and deliberate slow phrasing, each word infused with the terrible undertone of righteous anger, the Minister flinched and flattened himself against the chill stone at his back. The papers scattered to the floor as he lost his grip on them. "I will not admit to crimes which I have not committed in order to spare you and your cronies the embarrassment of this trial nor aid in the persecution of Albus Dumbledore. _That_ is entirely your affair and I refuse to participate in it."

"Very well, _Madam_ McGonagall," sneered Umbridge after a brief pause. "You have snubbed the Ministry's generous and merciful offer of leniency. You have left us with no choice. This evidence will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life or until you choose to repent and make amends by helping the Ministry. In either case, you will be disgraced and shown to be the traitor that you are."

"You will find it difficult to convict an innocent woman, Dolores."

"Hem, hem, we shall see won't we, Minerva dear," simpered Umbridge.

"Minister," broke in Madam Bones, "the evidence, if you please."

"Yes, Madam Bones, of course," said Fudge, fumbling around at his feet to locate the parchments. Uncrumpling them, Fudge declared, "These letters were given to me and contain correspondence between Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall after the former confessed to treasonous activities and then fled the justice of the Ministry. They clearly show her complicity in his scheme to overthrow the Ministry." His proclamation sent shockwaves through the crowd which exploded into babble of denial and astonishment and disbelief. Cries of "No way" and "you're a bloody liar" hailed down from the students' section as other audience members launched themselves to their feet, pointing or shaking their fists or making rude gestures at Fudge. On the floor, McGonagall and Ashford disregarded the racket, holding a rapid council. Meanwhile, Fudge shouted for quiet, trying to be heard above the din, but the horde ignored him.

"I take it you have never seen these letters before?" asked Jonathan.

"No. I never sent any such letters," Minerva shook her head emphatically. "I have more intelligence than that. They must be forgeries. If we can prove it…"

"We have to prove it, Minerva. Otherwise, it might be enough to damn you." Staring blankly at the empty wall over Minerva's shoulder, Jonathan said, "We need time. Madam Bones probably won't prevent Fudge from reading the letters today, but I should be able to convince her to have the letters examined by an expert."

"It can't be someone within the Ministry. For all we know, Fudge or Umbridge could have ordered their creation from a Ministry expert."

"I know. I will petition Madam Bones to request the International Magical Office of Law to send out one of their specialists." Glancing up at the tumult around them, Jonathan remarked, "At least it appears that the crowd doesn't believe Fudge's story."

"Which is reassuring," added Minerva. "Dear me, it seems Fudge and Umbridge are having a bit of trouble restoring order." Fudge had resorted to flailing his arms about while yelling as Umbridge's high pitched admonitions were lost in the general chaos.

"Yes, it would appear that way," drawled Jonathan.

"In the interest of efficiency, I suppose I will lend my assistance." A half smirk flitted across her features before she stepped away from Jonathan and positioned herself in the center of the chamber.

In her most authoritarian "teacher voice," Minerva addressed the riotous multitude with a simple, "That will do."

Carrying distinctly above the clamor, the phrase rippled among the crowd, those who heard it first shushing their neighbors. By the time a second "That will do" reverberated in the chamber, calm had been restored and the final mutterings were dying away.

"Thank you," Minerva said. "I appreciate your support, but the trial must be conducted in an orderly fashion."

"However, if you feel the desire to express your opinions on the subject, I encourage you to write to the Ministry or to your preferred news agency," interjected Jonathan. "If you wish to write to Madam McGonagall, you should direct your correspondence to me and I will ensure that she receives it."

"I think you may continue now, Minister," instructed Madam Bones, sounding faintly amused. Umbridge and Fudge, on the other hand, glowered.

"I will now read from the letter dated two days after Dumbledore escaped," stated the Minister, once again having to search on the floor for the papers as he had dropped them during the commotion. "It reads: 'Dolores Umbridge has been decreed Headmistress of Hogwarts. I strongly advise against returning to Hogwarts at any point in the foreseeable future. In regards to the army, our plans will obviously have to be delayed until we can recruit more students or get around Umbridge. I will do everything in my power to chase her out of this school, at which time, it can be again used to stage an attack against the Ministry. I will wait for more instructions. Your servant, Minerva McGonagall.' The second and third letters contain the same sort of treasonous things. One reads 'More and more people are beginning to question the Ministry due to the spread of the fictitious theory of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named return. I am encouraging this falsehood in every way possible to undermine the Ministry.' This one says, 'In return for my support in overthrowing the Ministry, I will be given Hogwarts and authority within the Ministry itself.' Was that the bargain you struck? Headship of Hogwarts and Ministerial influence and power?" accused Fudge.

"No, I did not."

"Then you deny writing these letters?" shot Fudge.

"Yes, I certainly do," declared Minerva defiantly.

"Really? Because according to Headmistress Umbridge, this is your handwriting," Fudge shook the parchments in the air.

"I never wrote those letters. Therefore that is impossible."

"Hem, hem," interrupted Umbridge, her face split in a wide grin, "I'm afraid it is. It was compared to a sample of your handwriting that I had in my possession."

"Madam Bones, I have not seen these letters at all. I request a chance to review them and to have their authenticity verified," Ashford appealed to the Department Head.

"I have no objection to that, Mr. Ashford," replied Bones. "Minister –"

"This is outrageous!" Umbridge protested. "I personally attest to their legitimacy. That should be enough for you, Mr. Ashford. I am a member of the Ministry of Magic and above reproach! Madam Bones, surely you will not doubt the word of a colleague."

"Mr. Ashford's request is reasonable and on solid legal grounds, Headmistress Umbridge. And I remind you that you renounced your official Ministry position when you joined the Hogwarts' staff," Bones refuted Umbridge's claims and turned to Ashford. "Do you have someone suitably impartial in mind?"

"The International Magical Office of Law retains a couple of specialists in the field. If you applied to them, I imagine they would agree to lend out one of them to undertake this investigation. If he is currently unoccupied, he could be here tonight and, provided the tests run smoothly and without complications, would probably be prepared to testify tomorrow morning. Would that be satisfactory?"

"I believe so, Mr. Ashford. The expert will of course conduct his examination under my supervision. Madam McGonagall and you will be permitted to attend as will the Minister and Headmistress Umbridge. Until that time, the letters will resealed in their envelope and held in my custody. Minister, the letters?" Fudge slid the letters into the envelope and reluctantly handed it over to Bones. "Thank you. The court is dismissed until tomorrow morning at nine a.m."

Before Wright and MacDougal escorted Minerva away, Jonathan whispered, "I know the wizard who will most likely be sent out. He's the best in his discipline. He'll reveal the letters as fakes. Don't worry about it."

"I sincerely hope you are correct, Jonathan."

* * *

I'm going to conduct a little experiment. I have never done this before, but I have seen other writers do it and wonder if it actually works.

See the button? Please press the button. Feed the writer.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: I was absolutely overwhelmed by the reaction to the previous chapter. Thank you to all of my readers, with special thanks to my reviewers. Lullabymoon again has my gratitude for her editing. Enjoy!

*I apologize for the delay. I had trouble uploading this chapter for some unknown reason.*

Chapter 14:

The court resumed promptly at nine o'clock the following day with all the spectators and participants of the previous day in attendance. In addition, next to Madam Bones, the documents expert from the International Magical Office of Law polished a pair of curious spectacles as he waited for the trial to begin. These spectacles had several lens mounted on wires which could be stacked in various permutations, each of them spelled for a different purpose. A signet of Libra embroidered on his robes, the grey-haired wizard skimmed through his notations, occasionally peering curiously around at the packed courtroom. In loud voices, Umbridge and Fudge discussed their expectations of the forthcoming hours, confident of their success. The audience bustled back and forth along the rows and up and down the stairs, exchanging theories and rumors. Seated at his table, Jonathan tapped a pen against his knee and shot glances at the door.

Finally, the doors swung open to admit McGonagall. After she had taken her place, Madam Bones stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please settle down." She waited for their compliance before continuing, "Thank you. Court Scribe, are you ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Percy.

"Good. I hereby reconvene the Wizengamot. At the end of yesterday's proceedings, the Minister presented the court with three letters allegedly written by Madam McGonagall which definitively prove her involvement in treasonous activities. Mr. Ashford requested that these letters be examined by a specialist in order to validate their authenticity. At this point, I ask Mr. Herodotus to testify as to the results of his investigation."

"Thank you Madam Bones," answered the wizard, rising to his feet. "For the record, my full name is Jacob Apollo Herodotus. I am a member of the International Magical Office of Law and have over forty years of experience in the field of document identification and verification. I received a request for my services yesterday and, fortunately, was able to examine the evidence in question yesterday evening."

"In order to provide a basis for comparison, I asked Madam McGonagall to copy the earliest letter under my supervision. This enabled me to compare a known sample of her handwriting with the three letters to determine if they had in fact been written by the same person. If I may, Madam Bones, I would like to project a facsimile of the documents so the court will be able to follow along and understand my final conclusions."

"Go ahead, Mr. Herodotus." Slipping his wand into his hand, Herodotus traced the edges of the first letter and McGonagall's exemplar and then outlined two similar rectangles in the air. He murmured a series of spells, causing the air to grow opaque and an enlarged likeness of the two documents to appear. With a flicking motion, the pair quadrupled until one exemplar and one letter faced each side of the courtroom.

"Can everyone see?" he inquired. The audience confirmed that they could. "Then I will begin. As I speak, I will use my wand thusly-" he underlined a sentence with a bold stroke "-to highlight certain clues which tell me whether or not Minerva McGonagall wrote this letter."

"On the surface, the writing appears remarkably similar. Keep in mind that even the same person will never reproduce their handwriting exactly every time. It naturally varies from example to example. However, some consistencies can be observed by an attentive and detailed inspection. Do you see this 'a' here and here?" Tilting his wand forward, he zoomed in on a particular 'a' in the letter, repeating the gesture for the exemplar. "Notice how the ovals of both slant very slightly towards the right. And on the lower-case 'g' the teardrop shape. The capital 'Ms' in the signature are distinctive as well."

"Which proves Madam McGonagall wrote the letters," cried out Umbridge, triumphant. "I think that is all we need to know to establish her guilt!"

"That would be premature," corrected Herodotus. "As I said, on the surface the two look very similar, which is not surprising since they were written by the same person –"

"But –" started the Minister.

"With all due respect, Minister, I am not finished. An amateur might have stopped at this point; however, I pride myself on my thoroughness. I focused my attention on each individual word and noticed that some transitions between letters, such as between the 'd' and the 'v' you see here, were less smooth than others. I then compared those transitions to the known exemplar. There were minute inconsistencies. With that in mind, I cast a series of spells and discovered something interesting. The individual letters matched those in the exemplar as did some words and combinations, yet the arrangement of the letters failed to match. This told me that although Madame McGonagall wrote the individual letters, she did not compose the text itself."

"In layman's terms, please," requested Ashford, noticing the scrunched foreheads and raised eyebrows of the audience.

"Well, it means that someone magically copied the individual letters and a few simple words like 'the' from a document written by Madam McGonagall. He or she then rearranged these basic components into whatever text was wanted. I found evidence of this technique in all three letters." As the realization of what Herodotus' conclusions meant spread, murmurs broke out in the crowd while Fudge looked worriedly at Umbridge. A tick throbbed in Umbridge's cheek and she avoided the Minister's gaze.

"Mr. Herodotus, is there any way to reveal the original passage from which the letters were copied?" Minerva solicited the expert, "I would like to know what the forger used to create this counterfeit documents."

"There is indeed. A spell of this type leaves distinct markers and I have successfully restored the original text in several other instances. Unfortunately, it destroys the evidence as it is, but since there are three of them and with Madam Bones' permission…"

"You have it, Mr. Herodotus."

Herodotus narrated his actions as he carried them out, "First I will unfix the individual letters from their current positions." The letters hovered above the parchment. "Then I will restore the original sequence and adhere the letters to the parchment. Normally, when forgers use this method, they retain the original parchment out of laziness or to avoid tipping an investigator off by using the wrong paper. If that is the case, all I have to do is raise the erased portions of the text and…eureka! The original text reforms line by line."

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear ,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We wait your owl by no later than July 31. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Writ large in the air, Minerva and the rest of the courtroom immediately recognized it as the standard letter she sent out, signed with her signature, every summer to inform eleven year old witches and wizards of their place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bones put in and adjusted her monocle to examine the parchment that Herodotus handed her at her request. The deception exposed, the focus shifted to Umbridge whose face had swelled and whose eyes were darting around the room.

Pressing the advantage, Jonathan demanded of the Minister, "Who gave you these letters, Minister? Were you aware that these were fakes?"

"No, no, I didn't know. Headmistress Umbridge gave them to me," stammered Fudge, his face pale and sweating.

"Headmistress Umbridge, how did you acquire these counterfeits?" demanded Madam Bones. The light reflected from her monocle and flashed angrily at Umbridge.

"I intercepted them," said Umbridge. With any sign of repentance, she continued arrogantly, "I thought it prudent to watch her mail, considering her _close_ relationship with Albus Dumbledore."

"We will deal with this matter later," Madam Bones announced over the hisses and boos and other sounds of disapproval for Umbridge from the crowd, "For the moment, it is enough to throw this evidence out of court. And be assured Umbridge, this will be investigated _thoroughly_." The disapproval rapidly shifted to cheers of endorsement at this pronouncement.

"Wait!" Umbridge shouted, "When Albus Dumbledore confessed to treachery, McGonagall was prepared to help him in his escape. She threatened Auror Dawlish, Percy Weasley, myself, and the Minister of Magic. That is clearly treason!"

"Mr. Ashford?" queried Bones. "Madam McGonagall?"

"Madam Bones, serious accusations have been leveled at Madam McGonagall and have blackened her name. I will address Headmistress Umbridge's allegation, but I ask to be given the chance to present witnesses and other evidence to provide the foundation upon which we will refute these charges," declared Ashford. "I ask the court's indulgence and patience in this."

"Madam McGonagall?" Bones faced Minerva, "It is possible that the charges could be dismissed right now considering the recent developments. You would have to remain in custody until the trial is concluded and run the risk of something new being introduced which might prove damaging to your case."

"Madam Bones, if I concede now and the charges are dismissed, the stain on my reputation and character will not be completely washed away. I do not want to be judged not guilty because of technicalities and mishandled evidence. I will not permit any suspicion of treason linger around me. I am innocent. I will settle for nothing less than a verdict which affirms that innocence and wholly nullifies the damage done to my good name." With a roar, most of the spectators leapt to their feet, clapping and cheering and, in the case of the Weasley twins, whistling. Minerva gave them a small nod in reply.

"An understandable aspiration, Madam McGonagall. Very well, Mr. Ashford, Madam McGonagall, carry on."

"Thank you, Madam Bones," said Minerva. Fixing her gaze on Umbridge and then on Fudge, Minerva thought, _Now it is my turn to show the world __**your**__ treachery._ Stepping aside, she allowed Jonathan to take center stage as they had agreed he would speak first, being much more eloquent and tactful with words than she normally could manage.

"This trial is not about Albus Dumbledore. It is not about Harry Potter or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Whatever you believe about those subjects, they are not the concern of this trial. This trial is about treachery." Striding in wide circle, Ashford caught the eyes of the witches and wizards in the rows above. The torchlight caught the silver strands in his hair, his robes sweeping out as he moved and his baritone voice ringing out crisply. "But not Minerva McGonagall's treachery. She is, as she claimed, innocent. No, the guilt lies elsewhere. It lies in the abuse of power, the abuse of authority, the abuse of trust. If Minerva McGonagall spoke out against this abuse, she did not speak against the Ministry, but rather against one or two of the Ministry's members. In truth, her loyalty never wavered and her actions demonstrate her devotion to her students, her community, and her country as she tried in vain to restore the values and morality upon which this nation is founded. I suggest, witches and wizards, that a true patriot does not blindly follow those in power when they trespass upon the rights of the citizens and actively endanger the lives of those they are sworn to protect. No, a true patriot draws a line in the sand and defen ds the laws and the ideals of her country. I will present you with valid and verifiable evidence to pull the masks off the genuine traitors and convince you of _Professor_ McGonagall's innocence." Neither Fudge nor Umbridge dared to correct his usage of her title.

"The Minister and Headmistress Umbridge have alleged that Professor McGonagall would be the type of person to put her own self-interest above the needs and interests of her community. I think it would be beneficial for the court to hear from those who have known her and then can decide for themselves whether or not they find this assessment of her character plausible. Therefore, I ask Mr. Chaucer Blotts, the owner of Flourish and Blotts, to testify. Sir, if you would?" A grandfatherly wizard rose from a third row seat, leaning on a walking stick, and made his way along the row to the stairs where Ashford met him and offered him his arm.

"Thank you, young man. These bones don't move quite as quickly as they did in the old days, especially in this chilly dungeon of a room. Hello, Professor," he greeted Minerva when he reached the floor.

"Good morning, Mr. Blotts. Thank you for coming despite the conditions. Please, take a seat," she replied, pulling out Jonathan's chair and gesturing to it.

"Thank you. No real bother at all, I assure you. If Mr. Ashford here had not come to me, well, I would have insisted upon speaking on your behalf. Now, shall we get started?"

"Of course, Mr. Blotts. Would you please state your name and occupation for the record?" requested Jonathan. He stood to Blotts' left side while Minerva positioned herself behind his chair.

"Mr. Chaucer Lewis Blotts, sixth generation owner of Flourish and Blotts."

"How long have you known Professor McGonagall and could you describe your interaction with her over the years?"

"In deference to the lady, Mr. Ashford, I will merely say that I have known her since she visited Diagon Alley for her first year books rather than specifying a date. However I believe you would not be interested in recollecting the past, but rather in more recent times. When she became the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, she undertook the responsibilities of that post which traditionally include working with the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade to ensure that the necessary supplies and books are ordered and available for the students each year. To that end, I have coordinated with her for many years as well as maintaining a cordial relationship based on a mutual appreciation for literature."

"In your opinion, how would you describe Professor McGonagall's character and person? Is she a competent Deputy Headmistress? Is she responsible? Trustworthy?" inquired Ashford.

"Absolutely, Mr. Ashford. With a very few exceptions, we have always received the required books list in a timely manner. It is also my understanding that those exceptions were usually not the fault of Professor McGonagall, but rather the fault of others. When we have copies of required texts that we cannot sell or return to the publisher, Professor McGonagall will often arrange to purchase them to add to the Hogwarts library or make available to those students who might need a little extra help financially. In regards to payment, I have never had the slightest bit of trouble."

"So, overall, you would consider Minerva McGonagall to be an honest and genuinely honorable person?"

"Without a doubt," answered Blotts with an emphatic knock of his cane against the floor.

"What about the other shopkeepers? I understand that you are the head of the Diagon Alley Shopkeepers Association."

"I have discussed this with them in depth. They all agree with me on this. Her reputation is sterling. Even if an order has been miscommunicated or lost or otherwise gone astray, she has never treated any of us with anything less than respect and politeness. I find the idea of her being a traitor utterly implausible," declared Blotts.

"Thank you, Mr. Blotts. Unless the court has any additional questions, I can escort you back to your place," offered Jonathan.

"I don't believe we do," said Madam Bones. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Blotts."

"You are welcome ma'am, but I was merely fulfilling my civic duty. I could not let the court convict a woman wrongly."

"Nonetheless, you have my gratitude, Mr. Blotts," Minerva voiced quietly as he took Jonathan's arm.

"Then you can thank me by stopping by the store after this business is finished. I have recently acquired one or two books which might tempt you." Minerva nodded graciously and Jonathan took Blotts back up to his seat.

During all of this Umbridge had been participating in a whispered conversation with a frizzy-haired Wizengamot witch and a nondescript Ministry underling. Now she hissed in the Minister's ear and Fudge straightened himself up, losing some of the insecurity and dismay that had marked his expression since the revelation of the forgeries.

"Madam Bones, my assistant has just brought the presence in the courtroom of representatives from the International Magical Office of Law and the French Ministry as well as a reporter from _Le Monde Magique_ to my attention. Why are they present? As I requested again last evening, I believe the trial should be closed to the public and certainly to foreigners," protested Umbridge. "I see no reason for their participation unless, perhaps McGonagall intends to flaunt the decision of the court and switch her alliance to a foreign nation in order to avoid justice?"

"These representatives are present at the request of the French Ministry and the International Confederation of Wizards. Madam McGonagall has a dual citizenship with France and, quite properly, the French Ministry wanted to guarantee a fair trial. To refuse their appeal would be a breach of the treaties we have in place. The International Confederation deemed it prudent to send an envoy from the Magical Office of Law in order to oversee the trial and help mediate any problems which might arise," explained Bones. "I gave my full approval to their involvement and I am certain that Madam McGonagall has no such plans to beg for asylum."

"A _dual _citizenship? Hem, hem, well, does that not split her loyalty between France and Britain?" questioned Umbridge with the appearance of innocence. "That is certainly interesting."

At Umbridge's insinuations, the witch beside Healer Chevalier, a perfectly coiffed woman in navy robes, stood up and called out with a trace of a French accent, "Madam Bones, if I may? I would like to address the court."

"Of course, Minister Chevalier."

"Thank you, Madam Bones." Descending the stairs, the witch nodded to Minerva and pivoted to confront Umbridge. Alert and intelligent hazel eyes pierced the Ministry appointed Headmistress. On the ground, the witch was revealed to be a couple of inches shorter than McGonagall, but still significantly taller than Umbridge with slate grey hair pulled into a loose chignon at the base of her neck. Her features, lined with years of care and life's success and failures, suggested an iron will and that she was accustomed to being obeyed. Next to McGonagall, a stranger might have supposed them to be related in some fashion.

"Your name is Dolores Umbridge, correct?" inquired the witch.

"Yes, I am. You can address me as Headmistress Umbridge," declared Umbridge arrogantly.

"I will not." Chevalier watched coolly as the other woman's face turned red, Umbridge opening her mouth to reply. Cutting her off Chevalier stated simply, "You do not deserve the title or the respect it confers upon the bearer. I shall address you as 'miss' since you have not earned the right to be called 'madam' nor are you married and therefore may use 'misses.' I believe that is the British custom?" She glanced at Bones who confirmed her guess.

"Thank you. As some of you may knows I am Celeste Chevalier, Minstre pour la defense de France. However, my presence here is unofficial so far as any action on behalf of my government is concerned. I am not here to offer asylum nor do I believe Professor McGonagall would even consider such a proposal. Instead, I am here as a sign of support from the French Ministry as well as to personally support an old and valued friend." She exchanged a brief glance with Minerva before continuing, "Miss Umbridge mentioned that my friend carries a dual citizenship with France. She appears to be completely ignorant of why and the credit which is actually reflected upon the United Kingdom by that fact. I want to enlighten her."

"My acquaintance with Professor McGonagall began shortly before the surrender and subsequent occupation of France by Germany. As a member of the Aurors, she was sent to France to provide assistance and to help facilitate communication of key military information. Over the course of the war, she served the Allied forces with great distinction and at great risk to her own life. When the war ended, France wished to present her with a token of their appreciation for her service. We do not forget those who have aided us when our need was desperate. We do not forget their service. The Ministry decided upon La Croix d'Honneur, our highest award. However, in order to receive the medal, one must be a citizen of France. Therefore the Ministry extended the offer of dual citizenship to Professor McGonagall. It seemed only fitting that she be granted citizenship in the country she helped to defend against the Dark Lord Grindelwald, Hitler and their confederates. In the history of the award, we have never bestowed it upon a member of another nation before or since Professor McGonagall's presentation. That we chose one of your countrywomen reflects with honor upon your nation and illustrates our gratitude for the aid and alliance which was given to France by Britain during one of our darkest hours."

Applause shattered the silence that had enveloped the audience during Chevalier's speech. Umbridge looked taken aback, perhaps realizing for the first time that she had not accused a mere schoolmarm without any larger significance in the Wizarding world, but a very well respected and able witch with prominent connections besides Albus Dumbledore. Fudge appeared distressed by these latest revelations and fidgeted in his seat, occasionally shooting anxious looks at Chevalier, Umbridge, and McGonagall.

"She never told us she was an Auror," exclaimed Harry to Ron and Hermione.

"Did you ask?" Hermione queried.

"No," replied both boys.

"Honestly, do you think the professors didn't have lives before they began teaching at Hogwarts? They don't just materialize out of the walls, now do they?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Well…no," said Ron.

"If you didn't ask, then why would she bring it up?"

"Did you know?" demanded Harry.

"I knew she was an Auror. I didn't know about the Croix d'Honneur."

"When did you find out?" asked Harry.

"Mr. Ashford mentioned it when he was talking with me about possibly interning with him in the future, either later this summer or next summer, whenever I have the chance," explained Hermione. "Assuming I can convince my parents." While this conversation took place, Chevalier had returned to her seat and Ashford prepared to call another witness.

However, Fudge prevented him from doing so by checking a pocket watch and insisting, "Madam Bones, the court requires a recess. It is almost noon."

"One hour only, Minister. The court will resume at one o'clock." Scattering, the crowd bustled out to grab lunch while Umbridge and Fudge held a hurried meeting to try to salvage something out of the rapidly deteriorating situation, rapidly deteriorating for them at least. Unfortunately for them, when the court reconvened after lunch, Ashford and McGonagall continued blasting even more holes in the Minister's sinking ship. In quick succession, the Headmistress of the Salem Institute and the Head of the National Academy of Spain testified as to their assessment of Minerva as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and were overwhelmingly positive and complimentary in their statements. Finally, Ashford directed the attention towards the members of the Hogwarts community itself, beginning with the senior Head of House.

"Professor Flitwick, how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" queried Ashford.

"This upcoming school year will be my thirty-eighth year of teaching. I was hired by Headmaster Dumbledore in 1957 for the post of Charms Professor and I was appointed Head of Ravenclaw shortly thereafter," answered Filius.

"May I ask what you did before joining the Hogwarts staff?"

"I worked as a member of various research institutes on the theory of Charms as well as helping to develop new spells and counterspells. As a hobby, I competed in international dueling competitions."

"Professor Flitwick, how did you meet Professor McGonagall for the first time?"

"We had been introduced before I arrived at Hogwarts and, through research, had shared a slight correspondence. However, I was aware that she had replaced Dumbledore as Transfigurations Professor and Head of Gryffindor. Upon my arrival at the castle, near the beginning of August, she helped me to settle into my quarters and organize my classroom. I learned at that point she had been appointed as Deputy Headmistress. My predecessor had agreed to be the temporary Deputy Headmistress for a year and a half to smooth the transition between Headmasters and to wait for Professor McGonagall to be formally accepted by Hogwarts, making her eligible for the Deputy Headship," explained Filius.

"Having worked alongside Professor McGonagall for so long, what are your impressions of her, particularly as a fellow educator?" asked Jonathan.

Filius smiled brightly at Minerva, turned back to address the court, and replied, "I have always held her in high esteem. In regards to her teaching, her standards are high, but not unattainable, and her students typically do well on examinations. I have never known her to refuse a request for additional help. If a student demonstrates their willingness to work, she will put forth as much effort as they do. Additionally, she has never displayed any signs of favoritism in regards to either individuals or House affiliation. She is exceptionally fair and evenhanded. As Deputy Headmistress, she is eminently capable. Even during periods in which the Headmaster was absent the school continued to run efficiently and effectively due to her diligence and competence."

"Not entirely, Professor Flitwick. The support of an excellent staff makes my job much less difficult," Minerva asserted.

"Thank you, Minerva, but a great deal of the credit still goes to you," said Filius. "In fact, having to manage in your absence, I find myself quite astonished at the amazing amount of work you must do. Does that answer your question, Mr. Ashford?"

"Very nicely, Professor Flitwick. Professor Flitwick, could you explain to the court how Headmistress Umbridge came to be appointed to the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"When the Minister observed that the Headmaster had not found a suitable candidate for the post, he decreed that his power extended so far as to allow him to appoint someone of his choosing. Dolores Umbridge was that choice," explained Filius.

"Professor, did she undergo any sort of interview or application process?"

"No."

"Is this common practice?"

"Absolutely not," said Flitwick. "Normally the applicants go through a process to weed out those who would be unsuitable. At the very least, they are required to demonstrate some rudimentary knowledge of their subject. The Defense position has been difficult to keep occupied for some time, but the Headmaster has always strived to try to find a decent replacement every year."

"Professor Flitwick, what level of expertise would most professors at Hogwarts exhibit in their particular subject?"

"Most of us are among the top practitioners in our field. Although it is not required, many of us contribute to journals and to ongoing research in our area of expertise in addition to our teaching duties. Hogwarts has been fortunate to attract the quality of professors which currently comprise the majority of the staff since teaching detracts greatly from the time available for independent research and therefore few experts are willing to make the sacrifice. In the time I have taught at Hogwarts, the leading research establishments as well as private companies have attempted to lure every member of the staff from Hogwarts at one point or another with very generous offers."

"Then, given the incentives to leave, do you and the other staff members decide to stay?" Ashford assumed a curious and somewhat puzzled expression.

"This is our calling, Mr. Ashford. It is as simple as that. However, the administration has always encouraged and aided our research endeavors whenever possible."

"Professor, while I am aware that you are not a Defense specialist and thus may not be as knowledgeable about those in that field, does Dolores Umbridge possess any of this high level of expertise which characterizes the rest of the staff? Has she published articles or written any treatise or participated in joint ventures?"

"When I learned of her appointment, I investigated her background as did several other members of the faculty. We reached the conclusion that we could find no evidence of any proficiency in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. She also had no experience in working with children or in teaching."

"Thank you, Professor. Still, it might not be _impossible_ for her to succeed at her post?" Jonathan suggested. "In your own opinion and view, how has the school year progressed? Perhaps starting with her effectiveness as a teacher, her original post?"

"Mr. Ashford, it is my belief, and the belief of my colleagues, that she proved to be a woefully ineffective teacher. We have spoken with the students and with the Board of Examiners on this matter and they confirm our assessment," declared Filius. "In addition to failing to educate the students, she failed to even maintain control within her own classroom."

"What about as this High Inquisitor? And as Headmistress?" probed Jonathan.

"I'm afraid I cannot say anything positive about her actions in those positions either, Mr. Ashford. When inspecting the teachers, she held to none of the accepted standards. She did not consult education experts or texts to determine appropriate evaluation procedures and criteria. On more than one occasion, she used derogatory terms to refer to several staff members, including myself, and blatantly dismissed Muggle Studies as useless. According to her, Muggle Studies should be abandoned entirely because, to paraphrase her words, Muggles are of no significance or value."

"Her Educational Decrees undermined the ability of the staff to properly govern the school and instruct the students. In particular, the Decree Twenty-five allowed punishments allotted to students by other professors to be overturned by the High Inquisitor. She used this power for the benefit of those students who were her favorites and to punish other students whom she disliked for one reason or another. Additionally, her Inquisitorial Squad caused problems for the rest of the student body and the professors. She gave them free rein to do as they wished which they took as leeway to abuse the younger or more vulnerable students. With Decree Twenty-five in place, the staff found it exceedingly difficult to discipline these Squad members."

"As Headmistress, she did not improve her record. She performed none of the duties of the office and continued to perpetuate a climate of insecurity and fear within the castle walls. The staff carried on as best we could while Professor McGonagall assumed much of the responsibilities of the Headship in addition to her normal workload. When Professor McGonagall was removed, the situation deteriorated further. Shall I continue?" asked Flitwick, his voice uncharacteristically hard.

"I think the court has understood the general idea, Professor Flitwick. Thank you for your time," interrupted Fudge. "There is no need to go on." Flitwick regarded him with a stern gaze that made it suddenly much easier to imagine him as champion duelist.

"Professor Flitwick," Madam Bones said courteously, "Mr. Ashford, with respect, we should move forward. Naturally, if either Mr. Ashford or the court has further questions, Professor Flitwick may be recalled. Thank you, Professor. The court appreciates your testimony."

"Very well, Madam Bones," agreed Flitwick and he retired to his seat after murmuring a quiet word or two of encouragement and support to Minerva who thanked him softly.

"Please call your next witness, Mr. Ashford," requested Bones.

"I would like to ask Madam Pomfrey to come to the floor," replied Jonathan. When the Matron reached the bottom of the stairs, Jonathan met her and offered her his chair which he had pulled out in front of the table.

"Thank you, Mr. Ashford." Poppy straightened her Matron's robes and asked, "How can I help you?"

"Could you state your name and position please?" requested Madam Bones.

"My name is Poppy Pomfrey and I am the Hogwarts' Matron. I am in charge of the hospital wing."

Ashford posed his first question, "So if students are hurt or sick, they come to you for treatment, right?"

"Certainly. I am a fully qualified Healer and am responsible for their health."

"This is irreverent!" broke in Umbridge, unable to be restrained any longer by the glares and other indications of displeasure Madam Bones directed towards her whenever she had tried to speak before this. She pushed herself to her feet and waved her hand at the trio assembled below. "This has no relation to the charge of treason! We should not allow any more of this...this idle drivel. Madam Bones, I demand you put a halt to this!"

"Headmistress Umbridge, you will sit down and refrain from interrupting the business of this court again," commanded Madam Bones. "Otherwise I will have you thrown out of this courtroom. Your presence is neither required nor desired and is only barely tolerated. If I were you, I would not draw attention to myself unless you wish me to deal with the issue of the forged letters here and now." Cheeks swollen and purpling, Dolores pursed her lips, but kept them shut. "Good choice. Mr. Ashford, please continue but, although she expressed it in a very improper and impolite fashion, the court does need to see a connection between your witness and your defense of the charge of treason."

"Noted, Madam Bones. I promise you that everything you have heard is part of our defense," Jonathan assured her, then turned back to the Matron. "Madam Pomfrey, how many serious injuries on average do you tend over the course of a school year?"

"About a dozen, mostly due to miscellaneous accidents and Quidditch," answered the Matron. "They are usually things like broken arms or light concussions, that sort of thing. Nothing I can't treat of course, just injuries that require an overnight stay in the Hospital wing."

"I see. And how many of these types of injuries did you treat over this past year?"

"Close to sixty." Shocked gasps ricocheted through the audience, in particular through the student section as parents questioned their students.

"That's five times as many as in previous years, Madam Pomfrey. How did this happen?" Bones' urgent inquiry was echoed by many of the witches and wizards in the audience.

"When that _woman_ entered the school, she made changes that caused this. She gave the biggest bullies in the school what amounted to permission to torment the more vulnerable students, students who were younger or smaller or less skilled in spellwork, and then refused to allow them to be disciplined for their actions. Her Inquisitorial Squad chased first and second years down stairs, causing them to fall and hurt themselves. They used curses and fists to terrorize their victims if they caught them out of sight of one of the staff. When the other students fought back or tried to defend another, they were punished severely. The corridors became dangerous to even traverse, especially for the younger students."

"What about the less serious injuries, Madam Pomfrey?" cried out one of the Wizengamot members.

"Sir, magical schools are prone to a relatively small number of minor accidents. It's simply a fact of having so many young witches and wizards learning to use their powers. A few bumps and bruises are to be expected. However, I have never seen as many as I did this past year. Students, especially in the last couple of months of term, came in with all sorts of minor injuries in great numbers. Furthermore, throughout the school year, I noticed that students were reporting more headaches and incidents of insomnia than the average. The entire atmosphere of the school was depressive and exceptionally stressful. Without a doubt, it affected the students awfully," revealed Poppy. "In all my years at Hogwarts, I have never witnessed anything like this and I can track this horrible transformation from Dolores Umbridge's appointment as a professor. Moreover, every time she gained more power, the situation became worse."

Umbridge's face whitened considerably as the mutterings of the crowd reached her ears. Fudge wiped his face with a handkerchief while Madam Bones spoke in a low voice with an assistant, her demeanor grave. In the seats above, parents twisted around to confer with other parents, comparing accounts of their children and ultimately reaching a disturbing conclusion. Many of the students exchanged ardent expressions of hope that Umbridge would, in the words of the Weasley twins, "finally get what's coming to her!"

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey for your time," announced Jonathan. The Matron was besieged with questions as she returned to her seat, but the audience refocused on Ashford and McGonagall when Ashford spoke again. "Madam Bones, I would like to ask for a little flexibility in regards to procedure for the following testimonies."

"May I ask why, Mr. Ashford?"

Instead of Ashford, McGonagall answered, "I intend to testify on my own behalf, Madam Bones, but I wish to be able to pose questions of my own."

Ignoring the Minister's muttered directives to forbid the defense this leniency, Madam Bones replied, "You have my approval, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Ashford, to proceed with the caveat that I can withdraw my consent if I believe it necessary."

"Of course, Madam Bones. Thank you," said Jonathan. He walked forward until he was almost pressed against the wall directly underneath Madam Bones, turning around to put his back to the audience. From the perspective of many in the crowd, all that could be seen of him was his head and shoulders. Minerva had removed herself to stand to the right of her chair, laying one hand on the scarred wood of the high backrest. For a moment, silence reigned in the courtroom, laden with the hopes and fears and anticipations of those in attendance. Defiant, stately, clad in robes of rich sangria, Minerva presented a sharp contrast to the Minister and his appointed Headmistress. Next to her, they appeared as nothing more than pompous and pretentious courtiers grasping for power whereas Minerva evoked an image of the great queens of the past, powerful and wise and noble of heart and spirit, refusing to bow to those who tried to drag her and the nation into the sewers with them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have been accused of treachery. I have been accused of desiring to cause the downfall of the community of which I am a proud member and which I have spent a significant portion of my life serving. I have proclaimed my innocence and I stand by that declaration. I trust that you will judge me based upon the evidence and upon your knowledge of my character regardless of the influence of those who seek to sway you towards a verdict of guilt prematurely and to exploit the situation for their own ends."

"When I learned of Dolores Umbridge's appointment to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was concerned. Upon discovering her lack of experience in both Defense and in education, my worries grew. Within weeks of her arrival, I realized that my suspicions had been well founded. Students began to report of her subtle verbal abuse of Muggleborns as well as her obvious favoritism of certain students who had parents with influence in the Ministry."

Ashford asked, "Professor McGonagall, were you aware of this increase in injuries in the student population?"

"I was. Even before Madam Pomfrey brought it to my attention, I had noticed a steadily rising number of incidents in which students were hurt. The worst increases coincided with increases in Dolores Umbridge's power at Hogwarts." Minerva strode to the table and opened a black case lying on its top. "These are the reports from Madam Pomfrey concerning all injuries which can be attributed to Dolores Umbridge's influence," she said, withdrawing a thick sheaf of parchment. They made a heavy thump when she set them down on the table. "I remind you that these are the injuries which were reported to the Matron, often only when they were serious enough to need professional assistance."

"When this disturbing trend of abuse first made itself apparent, I started to keep a record of incidences involving Dolores Umbridge. After Professor Dumbledore was forced to leave, I requested that the rest of the staff begin their own log of such occurrences as well in order to provide solid documentation." As she extracted a stack of journals from the case, Minerva continued, "In total, we recorded over two hundred and fifty separate instances of abuse. They range from slurs referring to Muggleborns, used by Umbridge herself, to physical abuse."

At this point, Jonathan stepped forward and took a sheet of parchment that Minerva handed him. He called out, "Would these students please come to the floor? Lee Jordan, Judy Hawkins, Kenneth Towler, Harry Potter, Naomi Wyatt…" As Jonathan continued to read off the names, students worked their way down the stairs, almost completely filling the floor until only glimpses of the flagstones could be seen among the press of young witches and wizards. However, Minerva ensured that a small circle of space was kept clear directly in front of Madam Bones.

"All of these students, ladies and gentlemen, are victims of Dolores Umbridge's reign at Hogwarts. Miss Wyatt, would you like to begin?" inquired McGonagall, her eyes upon a fourth year Hufflepuff with curly strawberry blond hair and freckles across her nose.

"Yes, Professor." Drawing herself up a little more, the girl stepped into the circle. "Madam Bones, I approached Professor Umbridge after class to discuss one of my assignments which I had gotten a bad mark on. She said I shouldn't even bother trying since nothing could be expected of a child of a Muggle. I asked if she would help me, but she said I would never good at anything magical and that she wouldn't waste her time on a half-blood." Her voice, shaky and soft at the beginning, grew gradually stronger as she spoke. "She said the same thing to one of the other Muggleborns in my class."

"Thank you, Miss Wyatt," Minerva said in an undertone as she rejoined the rest of the students. "You did well. Who would like to go next?"

"I would, Professor," announced Towler, his lanky frame straight with determination. At Minerva's nod, he took Miss Wyatt's place. "About a week before term ended, I found three members of the Inquisitorial Squad shoving one of the younger Gryffindors, Dennis Creevey."

Dennis Creevey pushed himself into the circle and said, "I'm Dennis Creevey, Madam Bones. They were calling me a Mudblood and trying to make me give them my money. If Kenneth hadn't stopped them, I would have had to go to Madam Pomfrey."

"I just wanted to make them leave him alone, Madam Bones. I called for a teacher and Professor Vector heard me. She gave the Inquisitorial Squad detentions and took away points," added Towler.

Professor Vector rose from her seat, revealing, "Unfortunately Madam Bones, our _Ministry appointed Headmistress_ reversed my attempts to discipline those responsible. She lifted their punishment and instead applied it to Mr. Towler and Mr. Creevey."

Madam Bones, and the rest of the crowd, turned appalled expressions upon Umbridge who vainly tried to appear innocent, but whose eyes kept flicking around the room frantically.

"Thank you, Mr. Creevey, Mr. Towler, Professor Vector," said Jonathan.

"Professor, may I go next?" requested Timothy Grail, a Ravenclaw sixth year whose stout build made him a valuable player on his house Quidditch team.

"Of course, Mr. Grail," answered Minerva, ushering him into the space.

"Madam Bones, I am one of the Ravenclaw prefects. When I defended one of the younger students against Professor Umbridge, she threatened to give the caretaker permission to beat me. Then she gave me a week's worth of detentions."

"Did I understand you correctly, Mr. Grail? Headmistress Umbridge threatened to have you beaten?" demanded Madam Bones over the gasps of shock and horror from the audience.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did she make similar threats to anyone else?" queried Madam Bones urgently, leaning forward and peering at the assembled students. The crowd copied her movement, whispering amongst themselves.

"Yes!" "She did to me!" "She told my best friend that, Madam Bones!" "She said she would do it herself!" The exclamations of confirmation from the students caused the bright patches of color on Bones' checks to deepen and her eyes to gleam in the torchlight. Umbridge, on the other hand, stared straight into a wall, not having the courage to meet the furious gazes of the parents and other audience members.

"She claimed that another Educational Decree would allow her to punish us in whatever way she wanted," declared Grail. Cries of "what!" echoed in the courtroom. Madam Bones appeared sickened by the very thought.

One of the parents leapt up and shouted, "Why didn't we know about this? Why didn't our students tell us about this?"  
"We couldn't!" Judy Hawkins' voice pierced the tumult, loud despite her size. "She checked all our mail! If we wrote anything bad about her, she would tear it up." The other students chorused their agreement, causing the parents to intensify their clamors for explanations and justice.

"Excuse me," Minerva attracted the mass' attention. They quieted enough to hear her, mutters still rumbling in the rows. "Even if the students had been able to report these threats to their parents, Umbridge was careful. She deliberately targeted students from Muggle families or from families without any significant influence in the Ministry. In other words, she preyed upon those students whose parents could be safety ignored or silenced if they complained by associates of hers with greater power in the Ministry. She considered those students to be less important than their classmates merely because their family is not from a pureblood line or wealthy or both and therefore that group of students were deemed acceptable targets for abuse."

Murderous glares focused themselves on Dolores Umbridge, whose white face and widen eyes betrayed her mounting alarm and fear. She chanced a glance at the Minister. Fudge was staring at her with the expression of a man who, stumbling around in the dark, flicked on a light to discover his house ransacked and his possessions stolen. Umbridge gulped, her eyes darting around the room in a desperate effort to find an ally. She found none. On the floor, Lee Jordan had volunteered to be the next witness and McGonagall managed to calm the crowd somewhat to permit him to be heard.

"Madam Bones," Jordan projected his voice well, not unexpected for Hogwarts' Quidditch commentator, and the audience hushed even further. "Umbridge has given me multiple detentions during which she forced me to write lines-"

"Writing lines is a traditional form of detention at Hogwarts," interrupted Fudge abruptly, clutching at the slightest hope of saving his sinking ship. "I don't see what is so remarkable about that. Madam Bones, can we stop – "

"She made us write the lines in our own blood!" shouted Harry, starting forward into the circle with Jordan. Clenching his first, Harry held it up, the white scars distinguishable to Madam Bones and others in the first row. _I must not tell lies._

"He's lying!" Umbridge's screech punctured the dead silence induced by Harry's outburst. As one, every eye in the chamber locked onto her with horror, disbelief, and a gradual dawning of fury. "You can't believe anything that boy says! Madam Bones, Minister, you can't believe him!"

"I am not lying!" declared Harry. "How else do you explain these marks?"

"You probably did it to yourself, Mr. Potter! I wouldn't be surprised since you are very disturbed and attention seeking child!"

"What about me?" Jordan demanded. "Am I lying as well?"

"Of course you are you insolent boy! You challenged my authority. I had to punish you!"

"What about us?" called out Towler, gesturing to the assembly of the students on the floor who seconded him in a roar of sound. "Are we all lying too?"

"Yes! Yes, you're all vile little liars!" screamed Umbridge, her cheeks swollen and bloated. She had hopped to her feet and had her shaking finger pointed at the students. "Minister," she appealed to Fudge, "you can't take them seriously! They are obviously plotting against me. I brought discipline to that school. I gave you control at Hogwarts. I uncovered the schemers who were trying to undermine you and the Ministry. You can't believe these, these, these beastly children!"

When Umbridge gasped for breath to continue, Jonathan preempted her, "Auror MacDougal, would you please bring the item we discussed down." The Auror descended the stairs, carrying a wooden box which she placed on the tabletop. "Thank you. Would you please open the box?"

Tapping the catch with her wand, MacDougal revealed the contents of the box. Resting on a pair of wooden holders, a skeletal black quill glinted in the torchlight.

Addressing the students, Jonathan asked, "Do you recognize this quill?"

"Yeah, that's the quill she made us use!" cried out Harry. A chorus of agreement backed him.

"They are lying again!" shrieked Umbridge. "How do they know where the quill came from?"

"Auror MacDougal, could you tell where you found this quill?" inquired Ashford.

"When Auror Tonks and I were sent to Hogwarts to examine Professor McGonagall's office and quarters, Headmistress Umbridge wanted to speak to us before we left. She wanted to extract details of our search. While we waited for her in her office and I noticed this quill on her desk. When I examined the quill, I recognized the signature of the Dark magic in it. Naturally, I confiscated it. I later identified it as a Blood Quill which, as the students recount, uses the blood of the writer for ink. The process is described as being quite painful and potentially scaring," reported MacDougal. "At the time, I was willing to grant Headmistress Umbridge the benefit of the doubt. I assumed that she had happened upon the quill and had retained it as an exemplar of a Dark object. Now, however, with the testimonies of these students…I see I was probably grossly mistaken." MacDougal returned to her seat, not without giving Umbridge a look that conveyed her revulsion for the woman.

Gulping, Umbridge tried to defend herself, "MacDougal must be mistaken. That is just a quill. It was given to me by a friend as a gift. There is nothing extraordinary about it at all!" The students' denial of her statement deafened the crowd for a minute as they made their objections know.

"Settle down, please," directed McGonagall which the students immediately heeded, reducing their comments to occasional mutterings.

"If this is a normal quill, Miss Umbridge, as you claim, and Auror MacDougal was erroneous in her identification, I am sure you will not mind demonstrating its usage for the court?" suggested Jonathan, removing the quill from its container. He offered it to Umbridge, who drew her hands away from the quill immediately.

"I will not. I would be careful, Mr. Ashford. I am a member of the Ministry and the Ministry appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts. Questioning my word would be tantamount to questioning the authority of the Ministry itself. If you do not withdraw your question, you might find yourself accused of treachery alongside Minerva McGonagall!" Her pitch climbed higher and higher as she spoke, visibly shaking.

"Dolores, do not be ridiculous!" snapped Madam Bones. "Given the falsehoods in your speech and actions prior to this, the court requires that you prove that you are actually telling truth this time if you have any hope of being believed. Take the quill."

A hush spread over the courtroom as the witches and wizards waited for Umbridge to stretch out her hand and take the quill from Ashford. A full three minutes expired before any movement disturbed the tableau. Umbridge was not the one to stir.

In a flash of scarlet, Minerva approached Jonathan and plucked the obsidian quill from his hand. As the courtroom watched in bewilderment, she kept the quill in one hand as she quietly shooed the students back to their seats. A few, mostly Gryffindors including Harry, refused to leave. _Stubborn Gryffindors, _she thought. _Although I suppose Severus would remark that they are merely mimicking their Head of House, especially after I go through with this. _Briefly catching Severus' gaze, she saw comprehension flicker across his face. The Slytherin shook his head a fraction of an inch, but Minerva responded with an equally small nod before redirecting her focus to sweep the crowd with her eyes. She deliberately avoided the stare of the plain wizard in the shadows of the upper corner. If Severus had discerned her purpose, Albus had certainly done so as well and was probably not very pleased with it. Even if she could not sense him magically at the moment, Minerva had absolutely no doubt of that. _This is my decision and my choice Albus. And I will not stand for any lecturing later either. _

Stepping over to the table, she slid a blank piece of parchment from Jonathan's case.

"Mr. Potter, would you repeat what she forced you to write?" she called out in the stillness.

Confused, Harry answered, "'I must not tell lies.'"

"Thank you." Setting quill to parchment, she wrote rapidly, _I must not tell lies._

"Professor!" "Minerva, what the hell!" "Professor McGonagall!" A convulsion of protestations erupted from the assembled witches and wizards. Ashford sprang forward and seized the quill as it hit the table.

Blood blossomed on her hand, crimson red and shockingly vibrant against her pale skin. Breathing through the spikes of pain, Minerva closed her fist and brought it to rest in front of her heart. Ignoring the uproar around her, Minerva accepted the handkerchief Jonathan offer her and wiped the most of blood off, exposing the writing.

"I'm fine, Jonathan," she insisted at his worried inquiry. "I've had far worse than this." She rotated her hand so the back faced the court and extended her arm to display the script.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva glanced at Harry, who seemed rather stunned, and asked, "How many times did Dolores Umbridge have you write that line?"

"I…I don't know exactly, Professor."

"Then make a reasonable guess, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones instructed.

"At least a hundred and fifty times, I think," replied Harry.

"Mr. Jordan?" solicited Madam Bones.

"Less than Harry, Madam Bones, but probably close to one hundred," said Jordan.

Addressing the students, Madam Bones posed, "How many of you underwent a similar punishment?" A couple of dozen hands shot into the air. Meanwhile, Umbridge rose and attempted to shuffle unobtrusively to the exit. She failed spectacularly.

"Remain where you are, Dolores," ordered Bones, gesturing to a pair of Aurors. "Auror MacDougal, Auror Mills, get this woman out of my sight and put her in a holding cell until I can issue a warrant based on the evidence I have just heard." The two Aurors seized Dolores' arms, marshaling her down the stairs as she entered into hysterical shrieking.

"No! No, get your hands off me! I am a member of the Ministry of Magic! Let go of me! They deserved it. Those brats! They needed to be punished, don't you understand? I'm not a criminal. They are! Those are the traitors!" Dolores screamed as she passed McGonagall and Harry. "Get off of me! I will have your jobs. Do you hear me! Leave me alone!" The riotous victory cheers of the students chased her out into the corridor as they sprang to their feet, stomping and clapping and generally making a great deal of noise.

"Ding dong! The Toad is dead! Which old Toad? The Wicked Toad! Ding Dong! The Wicked Toad is Dead!" Knowing very well that she should disapprove of their enthusiastic singing, Minerva bit her lower lip hard to keep from laughing. Still, she could not prevent a tiny upturn at the corners of her lips. Using his hand to muffle the sound, Jonathan managed to transform his laughter into a coughing fit. Among the staff, many of them had collapsed back into their seats, trying and failing to contain their amusement. Severus gave a longsuffering sigh, shook his head, and regarded the students as a visitor to the zoo idly inspects the animals. High above the floor, Albus hummed the tune, occasionally joining in at refrain. The rest of the chamber divided itself between staring in bewilderment and laughing outright at the students' display. Among the adults, particularly among the staff and the parents, many espoused a regret that they could not act in a similar fashion due to their supposed maturity. Some gave up the battle, surrendering to their juvenile sides.

When Minerva realized the song was being repeated, she intervened, calling out in an authoritative tone, "Students, I understand your excitement. However, this is not the time or the place. Please take your seats. Of course, once you leave this courtroom, you are free to express yourself as you choose." As the students complied, Minerva said, "Thank you. Madam Bones?"

"Thank you, Professor. In light of this recent evidence of child abuse and perjury, the Wizengamot is instructed to consider Dolores Umbridge an unreliable witness and judge the value of her testimony accordingly. Mr. Ashford, Professor McGonagall, do you have any other evidence of witnesses to present? If you do not, I will ask for a verdict."

"I would like to make a final statement, Madam Bones, but beyond that we have nothing else to present," answered Minerva.

"Very well, please make your –" began Bones, but Fudge interrupted her. Distinctly unsettled and nervous, fidgeting with his hands and bowler hat, Fudge appeared to have shrunk in upon himself.

"Madam Bones, this trial has already carried on too long already today. It's past five o'clock and, surely, the Wizengamot needs time to make such a weighty decision. I request that we halt the trial here and start again tomorrow," blurted out Fudge, the words tumbling over one another.

Bones consulted her own timepiece and asked, "In this one instance, I'm afraid the Minister is correct. However, I would be willing to finish this today if the defense insisted considering they have no further testimonies or evidence. Mr. Ashford? Professor McGonagall?"

Receiving a nod from Minerva, Jonathan stated, "Thank you for your offer, Madam Bones. However, in this case, Professor McGonagall and I are willing to indulge the Minister. We recognize that many in the Wizengamot and in the audience have families and other commitments which would make extending the trial today a hardship. We also do not want the Wizengamot to feel pressured to come to a decision quickly without giving the matter due consideration. Neither Professor McGonagall nor I desire a verdict made hastily in the heat of the moment. Tomorrow will be soon enough."

"Since both parties are in agreement, I declare a recess until nine a.m. tomorrow," proclaimed Madam Bones. "The Wizengamot is dismissed until that time."

"Not to count the chicks before they hatch, but I think we have won," remarked Jonathan as he walked next to McGonagall out of the room. "How is your hand?" For answer, Minerva showed Jonathan her hand. The lines had faded without leaving any trace of their existence.

"Perfectly healed," said Minerva, stepping aside to follow Auror Wright before the multitude reached them. "I will see you tomorrow. And I concur, I believe we have succeeded."

"Bloody right we have," avowed Jonathan as Minerva strode away. Once out of sight of Ashford and the crowd, Minerva allowed a small grin to form. _Ding, dong! The Toad is dead! I really shouldn't enjoy that little ditty quite as much as I do. I did warn you, Dolores. You simply refused to listen._

* * *

Reading by lamplight in the library, Minerva raised her head at the knock on the front door. Through the half open doorway, she saw Auror Wright brush by to answer it. After a moment's conversation, Auror Wright returned and entered with Auror Mills.

"Professor McGonagall, Mr. Mills is here to replace me. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Wright. Goodnight," replied Minerva.

"Goodnight, Professor," said Wright before gathering his things and departing.

"I'll stay out of your way, Professor," Mills assured her.

"Thank you, Mr. Mills. I appreciate that."

Pausing at the door, Mills said, "They were ready to acquit you today. Why did you agree to the delay? You could have been back at Hogwarts by now."

"As Mr. Ashford noted, we did not want to rush the Wizengamot into a decision. Beyond that Mr. Mills, it costs me very little while allowing us to be courteous to our opposition."

"I think I understand, Professor. Well, I'll be in the office." He held up a stack of folders. "When I became an Auror, I failed to realize how much paperwork is involved."

"Good luck, Mr. Mills."

"Thank you," replied Mills, gently closing the door behind him. With a rueful smile at the thought of the paperwork no doubt awaiting her return to Hogwarts, Minerva resumed reading. By the books alone, Minerva deduced that the house had once belonged to Muggles. Few Wizarding households would have Le Guin's _The Left Hand of Darkness_. Estraven and Genly Ai were in the midst of crossing the perilous and deadly Gobrin Ice when the sound of voices drew Minerva's attention out of the page. _Who on earth could that be? I don't believe it is Jonathan, but I think I recognize at least one of the speakers. _

"Mr. Mills?" Minerva called, exiting the library and traversing the short hallway to the darkened living room. Mills stood in the kitchen niche with Dawlish and a wizard wearing the robes of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad who Minerva could not immediately identify in the poor light. Uneasiness crept down her spine; the scene triggered a pervasive sense of foreboding. She treaded warily into the center of the room. "Good evening, gentlemen. May I ask why you are here?"

"Now!" shouted Dawlish. Lightening blasted from the tips of their wand whipping and crackling towards her.

Minerva dodged, but not quite fast enough. Pain exploded from her shoulder, the electric shock ripping through her body, seeking the ground. Barely conscious, Minerva staggered, managing to clutch at a sofa to keep herself upright and moving. Groping blindly along her collar, Minerva's fingers grasped the brooch and flung it away from her even as another curse stuck her. She fell hard, striking the edge of a table.

A third arc of pain seized her. Struggling for breath and staving off the void threatening to consume her, Minerva reached deep inside for her magic. To her dismay, the wall inhibiting her power was crumbling far too slowly, only a slender trickle seeping through the dam. _Damn it! I need time!_

_"Don't be fooled by impressive magic. The best duelists can make the simplest spells into weapons. Imagine turning the ground beneath your enemy's feet to slippery ice or causing their sleeves to knot themselves together. If nothing else, simple spells can distract your enemy and buy you time!"_ Crystal clear, the words echoed from the recesses of her memory.

"Accio!" Minerva cried with every scrap of power she had available, agony preventing any hope of specific targeting. Vases, potted plants, books, china, and chairs flew through the air, slamming into the wizards with force and into heavier objects or walls, scattering jagged shards of glass and porcelain. Minerva barely managed a weak Shield to protect herself. Yet, she knew it wouldn't hold up against those curses.

The Squad member had been knocked out, but Minerva saw the shadowed figures of the two Aurors getting to their feet. A fourth strike deprived her of oxygen and convulsed her muscles. Between flashes of blackness, Minerva perceived Dawlish raising his wand again.

Immobilized almost completely by pain and the spasms quaking her body, Minerva twisted her right hand, palm facing the Aurors and shoved. They hurtled backwards, crashing into the wall and thudding onto the floor, unconscious.

Minerva neither heard nor saw their impact. Oblivion engulfed her, casting her deep into the abyss.

* * *

Author's Note 2: I am not a doctor. Feel free to moan and groan at any inaccuracies or email me to correct them.

Continuing the experiment (since it seemed to work last chapter)…

**Reviews = happiness. Please press the button. **


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: I apologize most profusely for the delay and beg my readers' forgiveness. Real life and I had a little contest of superiority. I lost. Spectacularly. In any case, we are approaching the final chapters of this piece. I anticipate one or two more chapters and perhaps an epilogue.

Many thanks to my reviewers and special thanks to lullabymoon whose editing is invaluable.

Chapter 15:

Tonks scrutinized her reflection in the back of a spoon and considered changing her hair color for the eighth time that night. As the newest Auror, she was frequently subject to what Scrimgeour referred to as "duties" and everyone else called "scut work." In other words, she got stuck with the sole night shift on a very regular basis just in case something happened. After the incursion a couple of weeks earlier, the Aurors had reevaluated that the value of that job, but that failed to enliven their enthusiasm for spending hours alone in the Auror Department at night. Normally, the watch consisted of twiddling one's thumbs or, for Tonks, testing out new disguises and hairstyles. Needless to say, it was dreadfully dull.

Purple rippled into a sunny yellow, highlighted with bright red stripes. Tonks peered at it for a second and then morphed it into curly green locks which extended past her shoulders. Huffing a sigh, Tonks reverted to her favorite pink spikes. Stretching, her glance landed on Auror Castor's desk. Last week, Castor had received night watch and used it to hide her entire stash of chocolate and replace the regular coffee beans in the break room with decaf. _Payback is definitely in order_. Pondering her revenge, she drummed the spoon against the top of her desk._ Bored, bored, bored…maybe I could charm all his files to be written in Chinese or something? Nah… he deserves more. Okay, I obviously fail at being a criminal mastermind. Remus and Sirius would have good ideas, I could ask them and I do have Order guard duty tomorrow… I could do it then. Who has watch tomorrow? Rebecca… she would help me and Castor would never know it was me. I'm still bored though. What's that new song from the Weird Sisters? Da-dum, da-da-dum, dum-da-dum_, she beat the rhythm with the spoon.

"EEE-EW, EEE-EW, EEE-EW," the siren screamed, sending Tonks jolting and tumbling out of her chair.

"What the hell?" yelled Tonks as she hauled herself upright. She sprinted between the cubicles, knocking her shin against a cabinet, to the equipment room from which the alarm emanated. _It's not the Ministry wards alarm so we aren't under attack. _A flashing attracted her attention.

"Minerva McGonagall?" Tonks read out the notation pasted onto the device, her hands plastered over her ears. "Oh bloody hell! This isn't good." _Who the hell do I contact first? The Order or the Ministry?_ _Kingsley!_

Yanking out her wand, Tonks shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" A chameleon materialized on the table, and she ordered, "Kingsley, the alarm for Professor McGonagall just went off. I'm apparating to the Epping Forest House immediately. Should we contact Scrimgeour and Bones?"

With the chameleon speeding on its way to Shacklebolt, she slammed a hand down on the switch to quiet the alarm before dashing out of the room, through the corridors, and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Barely setting foot upon the Atrium floor, Tonks disappeared with an echoing pop.

* * *

Secluded in the Headmaster's tower, Albus Dumbledore sorted through the pile of correspondence and paperwork heaped upon his desk. In Minerva's absence, Filius had taken care of whatever he could, but some matters required the attention of either the Deputy or Headmaster. In addition, a copious amount of letters from parents, the governors, and various other persons provided him with ample reading material for the foreseeable future. At the current moment, Albus was unsure who exactly was winning the battle, himself or the parchments spread across his desk.

In reality, Albus had decided to tackle the confusion of his desk in lieu of futilely trying to sleep, an exercise which would result in tossing and turning rather than any chance of actual rest. _One more day and Minerva will be home… surely you can manage until then. _However, it didn't help that Hogwarts felt different with Minerva's absence. From almost the very beginning of his tenure as Headmaster, Minerva had been right beside him. Granted, she had not been appointed Deputy for a year and a half, but even as the Gryffindor Head of House, Albus had been able to discern her unique signature in the warding. Their magics complemented each other exceptionally well. Filius, after witnessing them create the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack and manipulate the wards to permit this alteration, had remarked that their powers resumed a melody and its counterpoint, perfectly in harmony yet distinctly individual. Sensing only his melody in the wards now, Albus couldn't help noticing the void where Minerva's notes should have sounded.

Fawkes crooned gently at his companion, causing Albus to smile and concede defeat. Abandoning the half-finished organization, he stroked Fawkes carefully as his Burning had occurred yesterday and the feathers were apt to be tender. At this juvenile stage, Fawkes could fly for brief periods, but was unable to teleport.

"I've missed her, Fawkes. It will be nice to have her home again, won't it?" Fawkes trilled happily in response. "I don't believe we have spent this much time without communication in decades, perhaps as far back as those first ten years after she graduated. Dolores did underestimate Minerva, didn't she? Most people do, it seems." Reflecting upon the years he had known Minerva, Albus found himself, not for the first time, quietly impressed by the witch who was frequently disregarded as being merely his second-in-command at the school. Minerva rarely alluded to her accomplishments and he doubted that she had told anyone, even him, all of them. He had once questioned her why she permitted people to underrate her, why she didn't make her achievements the slightest bit more public.

_"Albus, if someone does not have the intelligence to appreciate me for who I am, I see no reason to trot out accolades and exploits to demonstrate my importance. People will see what they wish to see in the end. You also forget that I am less… sociable than you are. If those who are close to me perceive me rightly, I am content. Beyond that, all I ask for is the respect I have earned."_ _Minerva had then proceeded to thoroughly thrash him in their chess game. Deadpanning, she had remarked, "After all, we can only have one 'hero of the Wizarding world' at Hogwarts. Otherwise, I fear for its wellbeing. Heroes always attract trouble. And someone needs to keep you humble."_

Remembering, Albus murmured, "I do need you, Minerva." Lost in thought, Dumbledore wandered over to the curtained window. Pulling aside the heavy plum drapery and fixing it in place, he gazed out upon the Hogwarts' grounds and the mountains visible only as a heavier darkness under the stars. The sickle moon shone brightly in the cloudless night sky.

With brutal abruptness, pain tore his breath from him. Gasping, Albus heard Fawkes' alarmed shrill. Just as suddenly, the pain ceased. Yet, the hollowness that followed scared him far more than the pain itself. _Minerva? _Inexplicably, he _knew_ something was terribly wrong with his Deputy Headmistress.

Not wasting another second, Albus overrode the Hogwarts wards, apparated to the edge of the Epping Forest, and appeared at the end of a lengthy drive leading to the hidden Ministry house. Under normal conditions, the house's wards functioned much like the Hogwarts' ones. Magical transport of any kind onto the grounds was prohibited, except for Ministry personnel, and none within the house itself, but Albus was in no mind to fritter away precious time approaching the house on foot. Instead, he located a weakness in the wards and punctured them with a burst of raw power. In a blink, he stood in the ruined living room.

"Lumos," he cried aloud, revealing the debris, the three wizards sprawled on the floor, and finally, finally Minerva. Disregarding everything else, Albus knelt beside her.

She was so very still.

Underneath his fingertips, her heartbeat pulsed. Her breathing was shallow, so shallow that he could not perceive the in and out of oxygen through the rise and fall of her chest.

She was so very still.

Blood, _too_ _much blood, but head wounds bleed a lot, that's what the Healers always said_, spilling red across her pale skin and coating strands of her dark ebony hair. Hair that for some curious reason stayed as resiliently black as it had been when she was sixteen, twenty-eight, forty-nine.

She was so very still.

Burns on her arms, one at the right shoulder, one above the left wrist. Another hole in her robes scorched just beneath her rib cage. Caused by the men lying like rag dolls nearby who she had managed to knock out before succumbing to her injuries.

She was so very still.

_Don't panic_. _Don't let anyone else hurt her. Don't leave me. _

The Aurors would come soon. Shacklebolt and Nymphadora and maybe Amelia would come, they would have to. Surely, there must be a warning system in place and he couldn't risk leaving her to fetch a Healer. He had never been a Healer, never learned more than a handful of first aid spells, never possessed the innate ability. But he would trade every other skill and accomplishment now for that gift. He didn't even know if he could dare to apparate with her, if it would injure her further.

She was so very still.

He remembered the first sight of her. Tall, black hair pulled back into a coiled braid, in Hogwarts robes with the prefect badge shining on her collar, she entered the Great Hall to begin her sixth year. It was his first year as a professor. He quickly learned to appreciate her keen mind and her steady reliability. Studying ahead of her classmates, she willingly tutored and looked after her fellow students regardless of House. As Chaser, she helped win the Quidditch Cup her sixth and seventh years.

She was so very still.

She left Hogwarts to become an Auror. Later, much later, he learned of her special training, of her assignment to France, of her decision to remain when France chose to surrender. When he saw her again months before the final battle, he asked her why she stayed, knowing the risk, knowing that she would be forced to live as a Muggle to escape detection, knowing she faced oppression and sacrifice. She said that she had never been one to run away. She said that the Resistance needed her too badly, that she couldn't stand waiting for the fight to come to her; she had to face it head on. He suspected that he would never know the extent of her contributions to the cause or the doubtlessly harsh cost. She taught him about courage and honor and fortitude and perseverance against impossible odds. Her name remained unsung and forgotten while he and a handful of others were feted and praised to the skies.

She was so very still.

Armando had been unable to continue as Headmaster. So the Christmas holidays found him wading through the mountains of work in the Head's office, having been hurriedly confirmed as Headmaster eight days beforehand. She surprised him. He thought she was only there for a quick visit. Informing him that his organization had failed miserably, she proceeded to start sorting the paperwork and mail with an offhand remark that _she_ was Dippet's choice to replace him. She peered at him over her glasses and asked tartly if that met with his satisfaction. He told her that it was the best Christmas present he had ever received.

She was so very still.

War darkened Hogwarts. Slytherin and Gryffindor were at each other's throats. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw attempted to avoid confrontation but neutrality was rapidly becoming less and less of an option. He was often gone with the Ministry or with the Order or trying to figure out the convoluted puzzle of Lord Voldemort and Tom Riddle. They both fought. Hogwarts came under siege more than once. One had to remain behind and he was the hero, the figurehead, the rallying point so she stayed at the school to guard the students. Unless it was desperate and they needed her abilities to stave off defeat. When he returned, no matter the hour, she would be waiting for him in his office or sometimes at the Entrance Hall doors. That's how he knew he was home.

She was so very still.

She was never still.

Never.

When he could, he liked to watch her teach, unobtrusively from the doorway. She moved with a practical economical grace despite her heavy robes. Demonstrating a wand movement, writing instructions on the blackboard, correcting a pupil, she rarely paused for even an instant.

Outside of the classroom, she watched over the entire school from a homesick first year to a grouchy Potions master, a prankster poltergeist to an eccentric Headmaster. Tower to dungeons, she knew every twist and turn of the corridors. From daybreak to the witching hour, she dedicated her time and energy and considerable talents to the needs of her students and school.

Even when seated, her hands rarely lay idle in her lap. Markings and the inevitable paperwork occupied her frequently, sending her quill racing across the parchment. In the few moments of relaxation he coaxed out of her, she read voraciously or worked on a paper for _Transfiguration Today_. Sitting across from her as she calculated the wisest move to checkmate him, he swore he could hear her mind whirling away.

But now, now she was so very still. And it terrified him.

Decades before, he had glanced at her as she cheered her lions on to victory on the Quidditch Pitch. Technically, they had still been his lions since she wouldn't become professor for four more years, but he had invited her to the match. Eyes bright and wearing a gold and red scarf, she had enthusiastically shouted encouragement to the team. In one of those poetic epiphany moments, he had realized that, somewhere along the line, she had integrated herself into his life to the point that he no longer cared to imagine life without her presence. Prompting a quirk of an eyebrow from her, this revelation had caused him to stare at her. He had smiled and merely told her he was glad she had been able to attend. Over the years since then, her place in his life had only expanded and deepened. She was his confidant, his rock, his partner, his companion, his advisor, and his closest, dearest, best friend.

"_I'm here, Minerva, I'm here. You're going to be alright. Kingsley will be here soon and he can go get a Healer who can tell us if it's okay to move you. You'll be at St. Mungo's in no time. Just hold on, my dear. _" Albus didn't know if he spoke the words and many others like them aloud or not. He continued to press two fingers to her pulse point while holding a piece of torn cloth to the cut on her forehead.

Thrum…thrum…thrum……thrum……thrum………thrum............thrum………………thrum……………………._nothing………._

"No, my dear, no," he pleaded, "You have to stay with me, Minerva." He repositioned one hand a little above her heart, leaving the other at her throat. "Ennervate. Ennervate! ENNERVATE!"

……thrum……………thrum…………thrum…………thrum………thrum………thrum…..…thrum………thrum

"That's good, Minerva. Listen to me, I need you to hold on. I need you to stay with me. Alright, my dear? You have to stay with me." _Please don't leave me. I need you. I need you to tell me when I'm being foolish. I need you to listen to my ramblings and dreams. I need you to be my comfort and strength – help me hold up the weight of the world. I need you, Minerva. Please don't leave me. _His entire being narrowed to the faint and unsteady beat of her heart. _Stay with me, Minerva. Show me your indomitable character, the one that challenged me, the one that was at my side throughout two wars, the one that never flinched from the darkness. You cannot give up now, my dear. You must not surrender. _

"Professor!" Tonks' exclamation jolted Albus and he jerked his head up to see Nymphadora and Kingsley in the doorway. "What happened? Is she –" Tonks couldn't bring herself to say the word.

"We need to get her to St. Mungo's immediately," Albus asserted quickly, not moving from his position.

"Tonks, apparate to St. Mungo's and bring back a Healer," ordered Kingsley. Tonks, after a moment to comprehend Kingsley's command, nodded and rushed out of the house. Kingsley bent to check the pulses of the three wizards scattered on the floor. "Professor," he said gently, "do you know what happened?"

"That is not my priority right now, Shacklebolt."

"I understand, Professor." Kingsley knelt on Minerva's other side, expression somber. "How is she?"

"Fading. I have already revived her once. She needs a Healer."

"Tonks will be back in a moment, Professor and we can transport her properly to St. Mungo's." Glancing around him, Kingsley continued, "You have to leave, Professor. You can't be found here." When Dumbledore gave no indication of listening to his entreaty, clearly unwillingly to abandon Minerva, Kingsley swore, "I'll stay with her, Professor. Nothing more will happen to her. I promise. Please, Professor, you need to leave. She wouldn't want you to be caught. You can help her by staying free."

Footsteps resonated in the hallway and Kingsley appealed to him again, "Professor, I will not leave her side. You have my word. You must go now." Mutely, reluctantly, Dumbledore withdrew and cloaked himself in a whispered spell, blending into the background. Tonks, with Emmeline Vance close on her heels, entered. Emmeline attended to Minerva while Tonks spoke with Kingsley.

"Madam Bones and Scrimgeour have been informed. Both of them are coming here. How could Dawlish, Mills, and Haverford do something like this?" Kingsley offered her no reply, instead directing his focus on Emmeline and McGonagall.

"I've stabilized her enough for transport," Emmeline pronounced, her voice attempting to be calm, but with traces of alarm. "Can we apparate from here? And what about the others?" Over Vance's head, Kingsley saw Dumbledore ripple into view.

"No, we – " Tonks began.

"You can, Emmeline," declared Dumbledore, startling Emmeline and Tonks. "I have disabled the wards. Fortunately, the Ministry seems to have forgotten that I helped to design and construct them and therefore can bring them down quite easily."

"The three others seem to be simply knocked out. Nymphadora, remain here with them until Scrimgeour and Madam Bones arrive. They will need to be questioned extensively. I will be accompanying Professor McGonagall to St. Mungo's," added Kingsley.

"Then let's go," urged Emmeline. Without any further delay, she caught both of McGonagall's hands in hers and vanished. Kingsley followed a second later. In the ghostly silence of the ruined room, Tonks ventured a glance at the Headmaster. His eyes were fixated upon the stained wood at the corner of an end table. In the darkness, she could not distinguish his features well enough to determine his expression.

"Professor?" she ventured, her throat clenching as the reality of the situation crashed into her – _McGonagall had been attacked by Ministry personnel – by Aurors! – had almost died….might still die –_ shaking the stability of her world. _I could deal with the whole Sirius was wrongly convicted and escaped from Azkaban thing. I could deal with You-Know-Who and the Order and the coming war. I could deal with Fudge and Umbridge and their prosecution of Dumbledore. I could even deal with McGonagall's indictment and trial. But this…_

"Find out the truth, Miss Tonks. I want to know what happened here," Dumbledore ordered in a disturbingly composed tone, raising his head and directing the full force of his eyes upon the young Auror who managed not to from back away from the Headmaster. Beneath the still exterior, barely restrained power surged, threatening to overwhelm its bounds and everything else in its path. For the first time in her life, Tonks feared the Headmaster, feared what he might do, and feared that his control would finally break.

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"Inform me the minute you know anything." Dumbledore did not wait for a reply, simply vanished from her sight. Left alone, Tonks sent a plea skyward just in case some deity happened to be listening. _Don't let her die. God help us all if she does. _

* * *

Woken abruptly from sleep, Severus blinked at the silver lynx crouching beside his bed. _If Potter has gotten himself into trouble again _–

"McGonagall attacked by members of the Ministry. Sent to St. Mungo's in critical condition." Before the message ended, Severus had thrown the coverlet onto the floor and flung on an overrobe, registering the final words as he exited his quarters. _Critical condition. What the hell did that mean?_ Bounding up the staircases, Severus raced for the Head's office.

"Ginger newt," Severus snapped at the gargoyle which sprung aside and allowed him to hurry up the stairs. Flinging open the door, the Potions master skidded to a halt inside the circular chamber.

"Professor Snape, what happened?" exclaimed several of the portraits.

"I was hoping to find the Headmaster," replied Snape curtly. "Where is he?"

"He disappeared a few moments ago," said Dippet. "He looked to be in pain, but it stopped and he apparated away. We don't know anything else. What do you know?"

"Shacklebolt sent word that Minerva is in critical condition at St. Mungo's." The portraits gasped or cried out in dismay. Dilys Derwent, the famed Healer and Headmistress, vanished from her frame. From his perch, Fawkes gave a worried sort of trill. Severus ignored the phoenix and began to pace. _Critical condition – attacked by the Ministry! What the hell is going on? _Lost in his scattered thoughts, Severus almost failed to catch Derwent's return.

"She was brought in by Kingsley Shacklebolt and Emmeline Vance and taken straight into the intensive Healing ward designated for spell damage. That's never a good sign. I'm afraid no one could tell me anything more," reported Derwent.

"Severus," a silver phoenix attracted Snape's attention. "Minerva is in serious condition at St. Mungo's. Inform the rest of the staff." Before the phoenix had fully disappeared, Severus headed out of the room to wake and convene the staff. _Critical condition…critical condition…it sounds like she could die. No, don't be ridiculous, Minerva McGonagall is far too stubborn to die. She wouldn't allow them that victory. She will not die. _

* * *

Due to the presence of two Marauders, the Weasley twins, and the other young Gryffindors, namely Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry, Number Thirteen Gimmauld Place had yet to quiet down for bed. Instead, they lounged about in the tapestry room. Ron and Remus were playing chess while Hermione read, curled up in one of the armchairs. Harry, Sirius, and the twins engaged in a modified version of poker, the loser of each round having to suffer a harmless but humorous jinx for the next round. Offering suggestions and occasionally called upon to perform the spells, Ginny drifted among the four. In the kitchen, Molly and Arthur chatted with Moody who had turned up in time for dinner.

"I'm glad Dumbledore allowed Harry to stay here during the trial," Molly remarked. "I wish he didn't have to go back to those… people again."

"So do I, Molly. But it is for his own protection," said Arthur, prompting a humph of disbelief from his wife. "I'm not entirely sure what made Dumbledore relent this time."

"McGonagall," growled Alastor. At the other two's puzzled looks, he elaborated, "McGonagall would have wanted Harry to attend if he wished and I suspect she somehow passed word onto Dumbledore as to that effect. Given the circumstances, Dumbledore probably would not have refused her."

"I suppose not," replied Arthur. "Minerva is closer to him than any of us." Alastor nodded and the discussion turned towards other topics.

"Nice one, George," Fred congratulated his twin on the rather spectacular pig tails George had spelled for Harry complete with pink ribbons. Sirius helpfully conjured a mirror so Harry could see for himself while chortling at his godson's abysmal talent at cards and the subsequent consequences.

"I think I need to instruct you on the art of bluffing," declared Sirius. "After all, I can't have my godson constantly losing against these maniacs. It's undignified."

"Ignore him, Harry," came from Remus. "Sirius, I refuse to let you corrupt Harry any further than you already have."

"Speaketh the poker champion of our year," Sirius shot back. "How many Galleons did you win that night again, Remus?"

"Ten and that is beside the point." The players laughed as Remus turned back to the chessboard, considering his next move.

"Okay, five card draw," announced Sirius. Hurried footsteps on the stairs halted their movements and caused the others to look up at the doorway from their activities as well. A hand shoved the door wide and Arthur entered.

"Sirius, Remus, we need you downstairs now." Disturbed by the expression upon Arthur's face, Remus and Sirius glanced at each other once before setting aside their pursuits and exiting past Arthur.

"Dad, what's going on?" demanded Fred. "What's wrong?"

"Not now, Fred." Arthur's tone brooked no disagreement. He disappeared from the doorway.

"Extendable Ears?" questioned Ron to the twins. Without replying, George apparated upstairs and reappeared a second later laden with several pairs.

"We shouldn't – " protested Hermione, but was overruled by the others. Moving down the stairs, the twins dispatched the Extendable Ears to wiggle their way underneath the kitchen door.

"They might have put an Impermeable Charm on the door," reminded Ginny.

"Let's hope not," said George, "I want to know what is happening." The Ears made it into position without problem and everyone plugged the buds into their own ears.

"Dumbledore will probably call for an Order meeting tomorrow. Hopefully, we will know more by then," Arthur said.

"How could this have happened? Wasn't there an Auror on site?" asked Molly. She sat down next to her husband who laid one hand over hers.

"There was supposed to be," growled Moody.

"Tonks' message said it was Ministry personnel who attacked her," Remus recalled. "Despite everything, I don't believe the Ministry would condone such an assault."

"Treachery is always a possibility," Moody proposed, leaning heavily on his staff.

"Merlin, if she dies…" Molly's voice trailed off. In the stairwell, the children exchanged worried looks.

"She's a strong witch, Molly," Remus assured her. "She will pull through."

"What should we tell the children?" Molly twisted her hands together. "Maybe we should wait until morning, until we have better news."

"No, they are her students. They deserve to know. I'm going to get them," stated Sirius. Opening the door, Sirius invited the cluster on the stairs to come inside.

Before any of the adults could speak up, Hermione queried in a small voice, "It's about Professor McGonagall, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Hermione," replied Remus. "She's been taken to St. Mungo's."

"How bad is it?" Hermione demanded while the other teenagers stared in shock.

"We're not sure," admitted Mr. Weasley. "Tonks only said that her condition was serious." The young witch wrapped her arms about herself, her gaze focusing on the floor. "We should know more in the morning."

"Who attacked her?" George questioned, his tone tight yet forceful.

"We don't have all the facts at this point," responded Arthur. "It appears that a couple of Aurors and a Squad member were involved, but we don't know anything definite. According to Tonks, Amelia Bones and Rufus Scrimgeour are overseeing the investigation personally. Kingsley is staying with McGonagall."

"That's as much as we know," declared Sirius.

"Can't we do anything? Can't the Order do anything?" challenged Fred, clenching and unclenching his fists where they hung at his sides.

"We will, Weasley," barked Moody. "When the time comes. Right now, we need more information. I'm going to speak to my contacts, see if anyone knows anything about this." His wooden leg clunking, Moody passed by them, "Lupin, Arthur, the rest of the Order should be informed." They heard his retreating footsteps and the closing of the front door.

"I'll take care of it, Arthur," offered Remus, exiting the kitchen. Behind him, the teenagers drifted into seats around the table, not talking, while the adults slipped into the same uneasy silence. After climbing the stairs to the library, Remus cast his Patronus which he dispatched to visit the remaining members of the Order. Finished with this task, he sank into an armchair. He cradled his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

_"Remus, how are you feeling?" It was the morning after the full moon of October. Professor McGonagall stepped into Remus' office as the werewolf glanced up at his former Head of House. _

_"I'm alright, Professor," answered Remus. Having been offered the extraordinary opportunity to teach at Hogwarts, he didn't want to appear less than capable. "I'll be ready for classes tomorrow."_

_"Judging by those circles beneath your eyes, I estimate that 'alright' might be a slight slanting of the truth." Fixing Remus with one of her piercing stares, McGonagall continued, "and I believe I gave you permission to call me Minerva."_

_"I'll be fine, I promise," Remus replied. _

_"Very well, Remus." Minerva turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "I hope you don't feel that you must prove yourself Remus by endangering your health. There is no need." She slipped out before he could answer. _

Minerva McGonagall had never treated him with any of the fear or revulsion or prejudice he experienced from the majority of the population. Despite the war and his condition, Hogwarts and Gryffindor House had provided him with a haven, a sanctuary of sorts. When he graduated and entered the Order, McGonagall had made a point of keeping in contact with him, especially after the deaths of the Potters, Sirius' apparent betrayal, and Peter's alleged demise. _If she died now…_ The thought haunted Remus as he rubbed a hand over his face, knowing full well there was nothing he could do except wait.

* * *

Morning came to Grimmauld Place. Sunlight snaked through the heavy curtains and windows darkened with years of disuse. Inside the house, the adults gathered in the kitchen, some waking from fitful sleep and others not having slept at all. Upstairs, the children slept, having retired to bed in the predawn hours. Emmeline Vance's arrival attracted their attention when she stumbled into the room, exhaustion etched on her features. Clad in lime green robes, she had obviously traveled directly from St. Mungo's to the Order Headquarters.

"Emmeline!" exclaimed Arthur, escorting her to a seat while Molly prepared her a cup of tea.

"Thank you, Molly," Emmeline said. She tucked a few strands of graying hair that had escaped the twist at the base of her skull back behind her ears.

"Emmeline?" The Healer regarded Remus whose soft questioning plea revealed his distress. "Do you have any news about Professor McGonagall? Is she – "

"She's alive," Emmeline assured the group quickly. "They called in Healer Chevalier. Apparently, he is her personal Healer. We managed to stabilize her an hour or so ago, well, at least enough for Chevalier to send us away to get some rest. Shacklebolt is remaining with her and it appears the Minister Chevalier has determined to do so as well."

. "That's good to hear since it seems we cannot trust our own Ministry," Remus stated.

With a snort, Emmeline said, "I don't think that Minister Chevalier was in the mood to be denied. She stayed outside the ward the entire night. She was still there when I left. Has Dumbledore been in contact?"

"No, not even to call for a meeting," replied Arthur. "I expect the Order will be convening here regardless over the next few hours whether or not an official meeting is called."

"Still, Dumbledore should have contacted us by now," Sirius voiced.

"I'm not surprised," Emmeline told him. "Not with it being McGonagall who was this badly hurt, this close to dying." She shook her head tiredly. "We might hear from him later today, once he knows she is stable."

"Dumbledore has never been distracted by injuries before this," Sirius contended.

"I know, but this isn't just anybody, Sirius," Remus reminded him.

"And I sincerely hope he refrains from turning his focus on the Ministry. Merlin help whoever is responsible for the attack if he decides to take any action."

"What makes you say that?" asked Sirius. "I'm sure Dumbledore is upset, but he wouldn't do something drastic." Emmeline peered at him and clasped her hands on the table.

"Do you remember the attack on St. Mungo's? No, you both must have still been in school and couldn't have been members of the Order yet."

"I read about it," offered Remus while Sirius nodded. "It occurred over the summer between our third and fourth years, I think."

"That sounds about right," said Molly, "I didn't realize you were involved, Emmeline."

"I was in my last year of apprenticeship. Anyway, You-Know-Who attacked the hospital in early July." She paused, distressed at the scene arising before her eyes, before continuing. "It was panic. We were trying to evacuate but somehow he knew our primary escape route and had it blocked with Trolls, Dementors, and Inferi whilst the Death Eaters assaulted the front entrance. The wards held just long enough for Dumbledore and several Aurors to arrive before collapsing."

"I remember fighting in the corridors as the other Healers attempted to get the patients to safety. We were being invaded on multiple fronts and we were forced to retreat without an available way out. You-Know-Who had constructed barriers to prevent us from utilizing any type of magical transportation." Emmeline sipped at her tea, exhaling a deep shaking breath. Her eyes stared straight ahead, watching the attack replay itself in her mind. Flashes of spells had lit the corridors with deadly intent while Healers had scrambled to defend their patients to the best of their abilities.

"I was part of a group that was forced to retreat upstairs. I didn't know how long we could hold out. Luckily, one of the other Healers found us and told us that McGonagall had somehow managed to get through the barriers. She was using Portkeys to evacuate the patients and the injured. St. Mungo's had an emergency facility set up after the bombings during the Second World War outside of London in an old manor house. Not long after that, McGonagall reached us. She asked for volunteers to stay behind and reinforce the Aurors. Those who didn't volunteer were sent with the patients and the injured to the fallback site. Everyone who remained received a couple of Portkeys and was ordered to help complete the evacuation. I ended up on the ground floor with Dumbledore."

"Somewhere along the line, the tide turned. More Aurors and Order members had arrived and, with the patients being evacuated, the focus shifted to repelling You-Know-Who's forces. Caradoc Dearborn caught up with Dumbledore as he pushed the Death Eaters into the waiting area. He told Dumbledore that McGonagall had been seriously wounded protecting the last round of evacuees."

"Everyone always says that Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of the century, but even in the middle of battle I had never been afraid of him. In those moments, I was. I don't think the Death Eaters knew what hit them. Those of them that were able fled shortly thereafter."

"What happened next?" prompted Molly, "I don't recall there being any mention of Minerva's injuries."

"When the Aurors had secured St. Mungo's, we apparated to the secondary site. I began assisting with first aid and triage while Dumbledore went to check the security of the premises and to find McGonagall. I lost track of him for some time after that until I was sent to retrieve more bandages. As I was coming down the staircase, I saw him pull McGonagall aside into an alcove. I've never seen such a look of relief on anyone's face as I did on his at that moment. I found out later that Caradoc had witnessed her fall after being struck with a curse, and prematurely assumed the worst." Drawing herself out of memory, Emmeline declared bluntly, "I don't think Dumbledore would be likely to forgive the Ministry if McGonagall does not recover fully."

"Nor do I," affirmed Remus. "They have been friends for a very long time."

"You said she was stable," Molly said faintly. "Is there any reason to believe she won't recover?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more without violating patient confidentiality, Molly," Emmeline sighed. "Suffice to say, I am very glad Healer Chevalier was present. He is one of the preeminent experts on curse damage in the Western hemisphere. Now, I need to get some sleep. I have to return to St. Mungo's in five hours. Sirius, do you mind if I stay here? I'd rather be close just in case."

"Course not, Emmeline. The left-hand bedroom on the second floor is free."

"Thanks," the Healer muttered as she exited the kitchen, passing Hermione and the twins who were entering.

"Mum?" enquired Fred, "Any news?" He glanced over his shoulder in direction of Emmeline. Hermione, whose mussed hair, pale face, and reddened eyes revealed her lack of sleep, slipped into a chair next to Remus. The twins positioned themselves at the end of the table, George perching on the tabletop.

"Sit properly, George," Molly instructed. "Emmeline just told us that Professor McGonagall is stable and resting. She's going to be fine. What would you like for breakfast?" she asked, addressing the room at large. "Scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, toast?"

"Bacon sounds great, Molly," replied Sirius. "I'll get the pumpkin juice out of the cooler and some apples from the pantry. Fred, George, go see if anyone else is up and wants breakfast?" The twins trooped upstairs while Remus coaxed Hermione to nibble on a piece of toast.

"She is really going to be alright?" the young witch asked anxiously.

"I believe so," Remus assured her, trying very hard to push aside the doubt still remaining in his own heart. "I hope so." _She will be fine_, the werewolf told himself. _She must be._

* * *

The door swung shut with a decisive snap behind the departing Healers, leaving Healer Jacques Chevalier ostensibly alone with Minerva McGonagall's quiescent form on the hospital bed before him. Chevalier initiated a diagnostic spell, not even startling a fraction when a voice spoke at his elbow.

"Jacques?" Straightening, the Healer confronted the visage of Albus Dumbledore. Blue eyes, their brightness muted, caught the Healer's gaze for a moment before focusing on Minerva. Vivid against the white sheet and her pallid skin, the scarlet burn on her shoulder overwhelmed the Headmaster's vision and he knew three other identical wounds hid beneath the blanket. "How is she?"

Recognizing the hints of fear in the other wizard's voice, Jacques told him gently, "Better than might have been expected, Albus. I take it you have been here the entire time?"

"Outside, but yes. If she had…I could not leave her like that, Jacques."

"I know. I would not expect anything different."

"What is her condition?" Dumbledore slipped Minerva's right hand out from beneath the sheet, pressing it between both of his.

"We were able to stabilize her vital functions, but we had to place her in a medicinal coma in order to speed healing and enable us to work without interference. The damage done to her body is being repaired through progressive and gradual spells that will minimize stress. Hopefully, she will come out of the coma on her own soon. If you would like to stay with her for some time, I have directed that no one is to enter this room without my permission. Celeste is outside with… Shacklebolt, I think that was his name."

Albus barely acknowledged this offer with a slight nod, conjuring a chair and settling down without letting go of Minerva's hand. Jacques, after checking on a couple of charms which would alert him or another Healer if Minerva's condition changed, left the room quietly. At his emergence into the private waiting room, Shacklebolt moved as if to enter the chamber behind him. Jacques caught the Auror by the arm.

"Healer Chevalier, with all due respect, I will not leave her unguarded," avowed Shacklebolt.

"I understand, Mr. Shacklebolt. However, I believe she is as well protected as you could wish at the moment." Shacklebolt tilted his head inquisitively, received a raised eyebrow in reply, and stepped back.

"Then I will ensure that Professor McGonagall is undisturbed."

"That would be appreciated," replied Healer Chevalier. Turning to his wife, he asked, "Est-ce que vous desirez de rester ici? Les autres Guérisseurs m'ont offert une place pour dormer près d'ici en haut."

"I will remain here, Jacques, for now. Please get some rest." Jacques brushed a kiss against Celeste's cheek and departed for the Healers' dormitory on the top floor of St. Mungo's. Kingsley and Celeste resumed their vigil.

* * *

Like the notes of a much loved song escaping from behind a closed door or the fragrance of newly baked confectionaries drifting through the air, Minerva became aware of another presence near to her. In the still depths of her mind, she roused herself. The heavy pressure of the blanket, the rush of oxygen into her lungs, the dampened pain echoing through her body, all these sensations permeated her consciousness. Fighting the temptation to ignore the presence and simply retreat back from reality, Minerva struggled to open her eyes.

"- and Filius has an entire collection of the most delightful posters waiting for your return. Severus has been inordinately sardonic and acerbic, quite a feat for him considering his normal demeanor, which he attributes to the lack of any decent verbal sparring partners. If you don't return soon, however, he has volunteered to organize next year's Quidditch schedule –"

"That is not acceptable. He would give Gryffindor the worst times," Minerva's whisper halted Dumbledore's litany and prompted his hands to tighten on hers. Albus smiled, eyes brightening.

"Welcome back, my dear." His soft intonations floated through the air as the lines eased from his face, tension fading away as he lifted her clasped hand to brush a kiss against her knuckles. Keeping her hand captive, Albus held Minerva's gaze, noticing how her lids flickered from time to time. "How are you feeling? And if you say fine or any other such word, I will hand the Quidditch schedule over to Severus."

With a glimmer of a glare, Minerva murmured, "You wouldn't dare. You may pretend to remain neutral all you wish, but you enjoy Gryffindor's victories."

"Regardless of how near the mark your sally fell, my dear, you did not answer my question." His light mien dissipated somewhat as he leaned in closer. Briefly returning at her awakening, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed again and his fingers unconsciously traced the pulse at her wrist. "The truth, Minerva? I need to know…when I found you…" Events of the preceding hours – the demolished room, her shattered and still figure among the debris, the epoch of waiting on every heartbeat, the deliberate frantic movements in and out and within her ward – encroached upon his vision and blurred the certainty of the woman in front of him. _I almost lost you, Minerva. When your heart faltered…_ Minerva, ignoring the throbs of pain the movement produced, managed to lift her left hand out from beneath the sheet and brought it to rest atop Albus'. Trembling slightly, her fingers curled around his as Albus shifted to clasp one of her hands in each of his.

"Albus," the sound of his name brought his attention from where it had settled on their hands to her face. "I may not be alright now, but I _will_ heal given a little time." For a long moment, Minerva kept her gaze locked on his until the shadows in his eyes dispersed somewhat. A thought occurred to her and she asked, "Would you mind explaining how I came to be here? I remember the attack, but I must have passed out."

"I arrived first. You were very badly injured, Minerva," his voice shook ever so minutely, "Your heart stopped." His hands tightened his grip on hers. "I feared that I had lost you there for a few moments, but I was able to revive you. Kingsley and Tonks found us then. Kingsley told me that you had managed to set off an alarm in the Ministry. Fortunately, Tonks had the night shift and alerted Kingsley instead of Scrimgeour. After they arrived, she was sent to bring a Healer who happened to be Emmeline. She stabilized you for transport and brought you to St. Mungo's. I'm afraid I lost track of time after that."

"Do we know why they attacked me?"

"My primary focus has been on you, Minerva, not on them. I understand that Amelia and Rufus are investigating it personally. I felt it more important to remain here until I was assured that you would recover before pursuing the matter myself. However, now I will do precisely that. I cannot comprehend why any member of the Ministry, let alone two Aurors and a member of the Magical Enforcement Squad, would attempt to harm you." Anger tinged his tone and features, chiseling a hardness not often seen in the wizard. "The conclusions are not pleasant." Minerva managed a nod, but her eyes had drifted shut several times throughout Albus' explanation. With a gentle press of her fingers, Albus leaned in to brush a hand across her cheek and forehead. "You should rest, Minerva. I don't believe Jacques anticipated you waking this early." _Sleep, my dear, and recover your strength. I need you to be well. Sleep and heal, my dear. _

"What about –" Minerva mumbled, only to be quietly hushed by Albus.

"Indulge me this once, Minerva, and sleep." Minerva, acceding to his plea, allowed herself to drift away. Albus waited until the steady sound of her breathing permeated the room and the muted noises from outside the room warned him to reestablish his invisibility, to step back from the bed. Firmly instructing his companions to wait, Jacques entered and shut the door behind him. The Healer approached Minerva, nodding at Albus as he reappeared.

"She woke?"

"For a couple of minutes," answered Albus.

"Was she coherent?" A pale green mist emanated from the Healer's wand, settling over Minerva, darkening and lightening in places before dissipating. Jacques smiled, apparently satisfied.

"Yes, although she didn't remember anything between the attack and now."

"That is to be expected. She only awakened briefly and having little memory might be more of a blessing. However, I had not thought that she would come out of the coma so early." Catching the Headmaster's gaze, Jacques offered a knowing smile and added, "But Minerva has never been one to conform to the standard."

"Most assuredly not," agreed Albus. A sudden upswing in the volume of the voices outside attracted his attention. "I surmise that I will have to leave?"

"Unfortunately, yes, Albus."

"Very well, Jacques. You will inform me immediately if anything happens?" While phrased as a question, Albus clearly did not intend it be a received as such.

"Of course, Albus. If I had my way, I would prefer you to stay here. I do not believe it to be coincidence that she roused when you revealed yourself and were alone with her. You also might be the only person who might be able to convince her to rest and give her body time to heal. Otherwise, I am sure that she will be demanding to be discharged by Friday."

"At the latest," Albus countered with a fond glance at Minerva. Picking up Minerva's hands one last time, Albus murmured, "I will see you later, my dear." He relinquished his hold, resettling her hands on the blanket and adjusting it as he straightened. "Take care of her, Jacques."

"I will." With that assurance, Albus invoked the invisibility spell and faded from the Healer's view. Anticpating the Headmaster, Jacques went to the doorway and deliberately held it open long enough for Albus to slip out while he conversed with Madam Bones and Scrimeguour.

* * *

"Three counterclockwise stirs, followed by one clockwise stir," Severus repeated the procedure as he wrote it down in the notebook. At his side, the cauldron sparked as the potion molted from a mahogany shade to a creamy white veined with dark purple and blue. Reaching for the belladonna, Severus began to add drops, counting one, two, three – _Whoever said no news was good news was a cursed fool…Dumbledore would have sent word if Minerva – _the potion crested and pitched over the cauldron's rim, hissing as it splattered the stone counter. Jerking his hand back, Severus seized his wand and cast an Impediment Jinx to halt the spill. _Imbecile, have you forgotten how to count?_ Severus berated himself. _Two hours of work – wasted due to your inattention. _

"Evanesco!" Severus nearly snared the word. Pristine once again, the barren cauldron mocked the best efforts of the Potions Master over the preceding few hours. This was not the first, nor second, but the third potion to wind up in the ether. After informing the other professors of Minerva's assault, Severus had declined to remain cloistered in the staff room, wringing his hands like Charity, chattering aimlessly like Aurora, or listening to the platitudes of Filius and Pomona. His knowledge of the Dark Arts provided him with far too many possibilities of precisely what "critical" meant to be appeased by their supposedly comforting assertions. _Which would not work even if they believed fully in what they were espousing_, Severus thought. Despite their best efforts, neither of the other Heads had been able to mask their unease and outright fear.

Twisting stoppers onto bottles and slamming the lids of assorted boxes shut, Severus returned his ingredients to their proper places on the cupboard shelves adjoining his workroom. There was no point in wasting more ingredients. He snatched a copy of a Potions journal from the end of the lab bench. If he could not brew, he could at least correct that atrocious article by Lambton; it was a disgrace to the profession.

"I suspected I would find you here." Red ink streaked across the page as the Headmaster's words wrenched his focus from his scribbled criticisms. For an instant, Severus froze, expecting the worst. Yet, as Dumbledore stepped further into the workroom, the knot in his throat eased. Behind the half-moon glasses, the Headmaster's eyes exhibited a vivacity which Severus had not witnessed since Minerva's arrest, which had resulted in his discreet return to Hogwarts. While the tension in the Headmaster's shoulders and facial features remained, Severus read it as concern mixed with glimmers of anger rather than grief. _Minerva must be alive and recovering._ _Dumbledore would not be this calm unless that was the case. _Severus swallowed the relief that threatened to overwhelm him and set aside the quill to focus on Dumbledore.

"Naturally," he stated brusquely, "I had no desire to participate in the handholding taking place in the staffroom." That drew a small smile from the Headmaster as Severus picked up his quill, apparently focusing on the article. "How is she?"

"Healing well according to Healer Chevalier. I was able to speak with her for a few minutes. She made it quite clear that I am not to allow you to design the Quidditch schedule."

"I see. Obviously, she feels that I would give an unfair advantage to Slytherin. I must remember to remind her about Potter and a certain first year rule when she returns. Do you know when that might be? Considering the damage done by that Ministry cretin, sooner would be preferable." Severus affected nonchalance, making a notation on the edge of a journal page. Dumbledore was not deceived in the slightest.

"Jacques did not provide a specific time, but as I said, he appeared optimistic about her recovery." Regarding the younger wizard with keenness, Dumbledore mentioned quietly, "She might not be conscious for significant periods of time today; however, I believe she would appreciate a visit tomorrow. Filius is already arranging for the rest of the staff to do so if you would care to join them."

"Not particularly." True to form, Severus refused. "Besides, a former Death Eater is hardly appropriate company in any case and it would not be conducive to my cover." The bite in Severus' voice was entirely directed at himself and his dark gaze returned to the journal.

"You know perfectly well that Minerva would not care, Severus, whether you are 'appropriate company' or not." The response caused Severus to glance at the Headmaster who inclined his head in affirmation. "Although I understand the need to preserve the appearance of animosity between the two of you. Speaking of which, I assume you have heard nothing about this attack?"

"No. If I had, I would have reported it to you immediately, Headmaster," declared Severus quickly. His tone shifted, somehow becoming more earnest, "If I had any warning of this… I would not have let this happen, Headmaster." He clamped his mouth shut to prevent himself from saying anything more. _I would not risk her life. I would not risk__Minerva's life. You must know that! _

"I know, Severus. I meant no accusation."

Accepting this, Severus asked, "Have you discovered the motive behind the attack? I assume an investigation has been launched."

"Both Scrimgeour and Bones have involved themselves personally in it, not surprising considering the identity of the attackers." The candlelight glinted off Dumbledore's glasses. "Tonks and Kingsley are keeping an eye on its progress while Alastor has been making inquiries. As I am persona non grata with the Ministry at the moment, my ability and access to the persons in question is limited and I was reluctant to leave Minerva until I had some assurance of her improvement." Severus watched the Headmaster drift slightly away from him, apparently speaking his thoughts out loud.

"What concerns me is the identity of the attackers. None of three, particularly the Aurors, would normally commit such a deed which suggests that they are either under orders from a higher authority or have been subverted in some manner. If the former, the corruption in the Ministry runs stronger than I believed and has infected even the Auror Department enough to induce this kind of unethical behavior. If the latter, we must discover those truly responsible whether they are part of the Ministry or not."

"I doubt Fudge has the boldness to authorize or initiate an attack like this. He might be a coward, but not a killer. I find it equally difficult to believe that the Aurors would have followed Umbridge's orders or have been forced against their will. She does not have the strength of mind to overcome two Aurors using the Imperious Curse nor do I suspect their characters could be deficient to this extreme. The only other possibility would be Voldemort, yet I would expect him to claim responsibility."

"He would perceive it as a victory against me – to come so close to taking one of my oldest friends and allies from me. And to use Aurors? To risk the exposure at this juncture when the majority of the Wizarding World is content to deny his existence? It does not make sense strategically. Unfortunately, that leaves me without a concrete idea of from whom this attack originated. "

"My apologies, Severus," finished Dumbledore, recalling himself to the present. "If Minerva were here, I would discuss this with her. In her absence, I'm afraid I pressed you into service as a captive audience to my musing. I have called an Order meeting for tonight at Grimmauld to discuss the situation."

"I will be there, Headmaster," Severus replied. When the Headmaster had bid him a "good morning," implying in the process that Severus should try to sleep, and had left Severus to his laboratory, the Slytherin permitted himself the slightest sigh of relief. Minerva McGonagall would be restored to Hogwarts._ It would have been disappointing to lose such a worthy opponent in the House competitions – Filius and Pomona are simply not of the same caliber._ Not even in his private thoughts did Severus allow the notion of missing Minerva for her friendship to linger – he was, after all, the Slytherin Head of House and had certain appearances to uphold.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: I extend my deepest apologies for delay. Please blame writer's block and school (and AIM for not being able to retrieve my email for a while). This also turned out to be a longer chapter than I anticipated. Once again, I owe a debt of gratitude to lullabymoon for her editing and to my reviewers for their encouragement.

Chapter 16

True to Albus' expectations, Minerva convinced the Healers' of St. Mungo's to release her by Friday despite their best efforts to persuade her to remain in their care for at least a few days longer. However, Minerva refused, desiring to appear in the Wizengamot and finish the trial without further delay.

"Minerva, are you sure this is a good idea?" Jonathan apparently disagreed with her. "You are not fully healed." In the antechamber of the Wizengamot, the pair waited to be called into the courtroom. At Minerva's raised brow, he reconsidered, "Never mind. Silly question. I should know better than to expect you to change your mind at this point."

"Yes, you probably should," replied Minerva. "I have no desire to allow this business to be held over until next week. This must be settled officially as soon as possible."

"I'm glad that at least Healer Chevalier insisted upon postponing the trial until midmorning and your use of a walking stick." The advocate gestured at the cane, black walnut with a simple gold knob, resting against the side of Minerva's chair. Fortunately the curses had not caused extensive physical damage, but Minerva's body remained weakened and her reserves of strength were depleted. According to Chevalier, the curses resembled massive electrical shocks which had caused the severe localized burns as well as disrupting her nervous system and heart. Once the Healers had managed to stabilize her normal functions, the burns proved relatively easy to treat. Had this not been the case, Minerva would not have been permitted to even entertain the idea of leaving St. Mungo's. Chevalier had mandated the use of a cane to assist her which Minerva accepted without complaint, a clear indication of its necessity.

"Professor McGonagall? If you are ready?" Shacklebolt's polite invitation came from the doorway. Minerva nodded, grasped the cane, and rose to her feet. With Jonathan on her right and Kingsley on her left, she approached the courtroom, the sharp tap of the cane resounding off the marble floor. At the entrance, Kingsley stepped forward and drew the door open.

Pausing as she walked, Minerva said quietly, "Thank you, Kingsley." She caught and held his gaze for a brief time, ensuring that he understood that her gratitude extended to all his actions over the previous days. In response, Kingsley offered her a slight, but distinct bow.

"An honor, as always, Professor," he avowed. A smile touched Minerva's features and was echoed on the Auror's. With a deep breath, Minerva refocused her attention on the courtroom revealed before her. She strode forward, her pacing steady and measured.

The crowd roared at her entrance. Leaping to their feet, stomping, clapping ecstatically, the air vibrated with the cheers and shouts of the mass of witches and wizards in the rows above. It was, simply put, deafening. On every side, gold and scarlet blazed forth from hats, scarves, gloves, robes, buttons, jewelry, and any other possible accessory or article of clothing that could be charmed to display Gryffindor colors. Minerva saw that even those belonging to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff or who had never attended Hogwarts at all wore some trinket of gold or ribbon of scarlet. Minerva glanced at Ministry officials – Bones was quite obviously endeavoring not to smile, Percy Weasley twitched whenever his gaze flitted to his family and to her, and the Minister looked distinctly pale, mopping his forehead and looking as if he was about to be sick. In the Hogwarts' section, the students, and parents, showed no signs of ceasing their vociferous greeting anytime soon. Pomona, Filius, and the rest of the staff waved to her while Severus inclined his head when her eyes swept over the professors. Near to them and to a convenient stairway down to the floor, the Chevaliers kept company with Moody and Lupin, Jacques watching her carefully. Finally, she found Dumbledore, once again utterly mundane and hidden in the shadows. He beamed at her.

As Minerva took the scene in, she was unable to restrain a smile from gracing her features. She strode forward until she stood in the center of the room, noting the absence of the chain encumbered chair and its replacement by a cushioned seat with a supportive back and armrests. However, Minerva decided to remain standing with Ashford slightly behind her.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the room quieted as she spoke, "I thank you for your welcome, but I ask that you now allow the court to proceed without interruptions. Madam Bones?"

Rising, Bones announced, "I hereby reconvene the Wizengamot in the case of Minerva McGonagall and the charge of treason laid against her. Professor McGonagall, I believe you wish to make a final statement before the jury votes?"

"I do, Madam Bones." The Department Head nodded and sat down, tacitly giving Minerva the floor. Silence reigned in the courtroom for a moment before she began to speak, her voice decisive and clear, yet not without a ringing passion behind the words.

"When I discovered the appointment of Dolores Umbridge to the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was concerned to say the least. I had doubts as to her suitability for the position and moreover, I felt that her character was in question as well as her motivations for taking the post. Professor Flitwick expressed it well when he said that for myself, and my fellow staff members, teaching is a calling – not an occupation or a job or an employment, but a calling in the truest sense of the term. My duty is first and foremost to my students, to educate, to protect, and to guide them to the best of my abilities. For almost forty years, I have dedicated my life to this purpose, believing that children represent our best hope to create a better community for us all."

" Now, I have been accused of treason against the Ministry. It has been said that I desire to undermine the foundations of this community, to cause unrest and chaos, to champion a madman and a war which does not exist. I deny this completely. I would not betray my students or my community by such actions. I would not betray myself. In one matter only do I believe that I have failed – I allowed Dolores Umbridge to inflict harm upon my students. I stood aside in the hope that, as long as I remained, I could somehow keep her in check. If I had objected openly, I would have been dismissed immediately, leaving the students in an even more vulnerable position of which Umbridge would have taken full advantage. My intentions were good perhaps, but I still could not prevent her from hurting my students. For that, I am sorry, deeply sorry that I could not protect them as I should have." Minerva paused, her eyes alighting upon Harry and then each of the students who had been targeted by Umbridge in turn._ Forgive me, _she thought. Drawing a deep breath, she turned to face Madam Bones and the Minister.

"Whatever I have done, I have done to protect my students – nothing more or less. I am not a traitor. Witches and wizards of the jury, I ask that you weigh the evidence and testimony which has been presented in your mind and vote as your judgment dictates. That is all." Minerva seated herself, rested her hands on the pommel of her cane, and focused her gaze upon Madam Bones. The Department Head rose, directing her attention, and the attention of the entire court, upon the jury seated to her right.

"Witches and wizards of the jury, you have heard the evidence against Professor McGonagall. On the charge of treason against the Ministry, those who find Professor McGonagall guilty as charged please rise." None of the assembled jurors budged. No longer bothering to hide her smile, Bones asked, "Those in favor of finding Professor McGonagall innocent?" Most of the jurors leapt to their feet with a thunderous "aye!" The few who did not, Minerva noted, were those who had formerly supported Umbridge and Fudge. Apparently their sense of self-preservation prevented them from voting either way.

Minerva, however, quickly found this observation overwhelmed by the ruckus breaking out in the stands. Shouts and cheers rocked the courtroom along with hearty whoops and whistles. Conjuring trumpets from thin air, the Weasley twins joined Lee Jordan in an impromptu and very poor rendition of the school song. A few stray sparklers, shot off by other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, zoomed around the heads of the spectators, whizzing so close to Cornelius Fudge that they caught his top hat. It exploded into a shower of confetti that drifted down in a flurry of gold and red flakes.

A loud bang from Madam Bones' wand interrupted the celebrations. "Please contain your enthusiasm until the court is concluded. After that, feel free to continue the festivities, although perhaps in a more appropriate location. Professor McGonagall, the Ministry offers you its sincere apology for this entire affair. In light of recent discoveries, the Educational Decrees are being reviewed and are therefore temporarily suspended. I suspect that they will be repealed shortly. Once again, Professor, you have our apologies. The Wizengamot is dismissed."

Amidst the reignited victory commotion, the courtroom gradually emptied of occupants, the exuberant noise of the assembled witches and wizards echoed off the walls of the hallway. Most of them stopped to congratulate Minerva and Jonathan although the Minister, Percy, and his few remaining supporters tried to slip out as unobtrusively as possible. Select Gryffindors made this attempt impossible, sticking out their legs in an unrepentant manner and then presenting smiling 'who me' expressions to their foes. Minerva considered saying something, but then reminded herself that the school term was over. _It is not as if I could deduct points in any case. Besides, if I were that young…youth does have the excuse of immaturity when one follows one's secret wish to trip your enemy. _

"Minerva!" exclaimed Filius when the staff reached her. With the exception of Severus, all of them looked ready to join in the impromptu jig the Weasley twins had begun a few steps away. Merry grins enlivened their faces as they gathered around the Deputy Headmistress and her advocate. "That was marvelous, absolutely marvelous. What a pity Dolores wasn't here to witness it."

"That is a pity, Filius, but I imagine our former," Pomona savored the word, her expression strikingly similar to that which a child wears upon receiving every gift on her Christmas list, "colleague is enjoying the comforts of Azkaban prison. I should send her something as a cell warming gift – a cutting of Urtica Dioica would be very appropriate, I think."

"What is it?" queried Aurora. "Herbology was never one of my strong suits."

"Stinging nettle." Laughter ensued, the professors chuckling and giggling at the prospect. Minerva and Severus exchanged raised eyebrows at the antics of their fellow teachers, Minerva biting the inside her cheek to keep from losing her composure.

"Send one from each of us, Pomona, we'll fill the cell with it," suggested Hooch. "Label them 'From your former staff – have a nice stay!'"

"Couldn't we include a box of chocolate to go along with that?" asked Aurora. The others stared at her until she clarified. "We could stick some of those little pills the Weasleys developed inside each piece or Severus could provide a few suitable potions – maybe one that causes her hair to fall out?"

"Or one that makes her sprout tentacles?" Jonathan proposed, earning approving looks from the rest. Severus restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

"Well, we can decide what we want to do later," said Filius. "Mr. Ashford, thank you for your service." He shook hands with the advocate, before turning to Minerva. The Gryffindor stepped aside a little, and the pair waited until Pomona and Severus had joined them. Then Filius continued, "It is wonderful to see you so recovered Minerva. However, I thought the Healers wanted to keep you abed for another day or two?"

"They did. I objected." Noticing that none of the three seemed pleased by this, Minerva stated firmly, "I am fine. Healer Chevalier would have not permitted me to leave St. Mungo's if I were not."

"And if I were to ask the Healer?" Severus glanced in Jacques' direction. "Would he say you are 'fine'?"

"I am well enough to finish this trial and return to Hogwarts. That is what matters, Severus." While the words were ostensibly intended for the Slytherin, her tone told the Heads she would not discuss it further.

"You will be coming back to Hogwarts tonight, I assume?" solicited Filius.

"Of course."

"I thought you would," voiced Pomona. "I asked the house-elves to freshen your quarters and put a vase of summer flowers in your sitting room to brighten things up a bit."

"Thank you, Pomona." Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw Remus, Moody, and the Weasleys approaching along with the Grangers and Harry. "I will see you later today when I return. I would like to speak with all of you tomorrow to assess the situation."

"I'll arrange it," Filius said. Collecting the rest of the professors, they bid her goodbye and left.

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Mrs. Granger," Minerva addressed Hermione's mother, "How are you?"

"Well, Professor. And how are you? Hermione mentioned that you were hurt?" Her husband came to stand beside Mrs. Granger.

"I was injured, but it is already quite healed," Minerva assured her. "I appreciate your presence here during the trial."

"We felt that we must be here, Professor," declared Mr. Granger. "You have supported our daughter and helped us to accept the Wizarding world. This is the least we could do in return."

"Thank you nonetheless."

"You're welcome," said Mrs. Granger. "Unfortunately, we have to be going. We're meeting my cousin and her daughter for lunch and I have already rescheduled once." She called out to Hermione, informing her that it was time for them to leave.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "Tell Snuffles I said thank you to him too, Harry."

"Sure. Bye Hermione," answered Harry.

"See you in September," said Ron. Biding the rest of the group goodbye, Hermione walked over to her parents and McGonagall.

"Ready to go?" asked her father, receiving a nod in response. "Goodbye, Professor."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I'm very glad you are okay, Professor." Hermione's voice was quiet, but earnest. Catching her student's gaze, Minerva smiled, a gentle curling of her lips that softened her features. Hermione smiled back and then dashed off to rejoin her parents at the courtroom doorway.

"Congratulations, Professor," Arthur exclaimed as he and Molly approached her. Molly seconded him after scolding Fred for making a rude gesture in direction of Cornelius Fudge who had yet to escape the parents demanding answers about Umbridge.

"Thank you, Arthur, Molly," replied Minerva.

"Are you going straight back to Hogwarts?" asked Arthur.

"That was my intention. I'm afraid I have work waiting for me and I need to speak with a certain member of the staff."

"Come by the house first, Professor," Molly suggested. "Some of the Order members are coming for a late lunch and I'm sure they would like to see you. I'm making a berry pie and we can make it a bit of celebration. The work can wait for a bit longer, can't it?" What Molly thought, but refrained from saying, was that McGonagall had only just been released from the hospital and shouldn't be throwing herself back into her work quite yet.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," added Remus, who appeared next to Molly. "Please, Professor?" Caught between him and Molly's well-developed mothering, Minerva decided it was best to concede gracefully.

"What time should I come by?"

"As soon as you are done here," answered Molly. With Minerva's acceptance secured, she proceeded to gather up her charges while Arthur said their goodbyes. Remus' eyes lingered on the family as they left the courtroom.

Noticing Minerva's regard of him, Remus said softly, "Aside from the hair, Harry fits right into the family. I'm glad that he has them, Hermione as well." For a moment, his tone slipped into a childlike wistfulness, tinged with sorrow.

"As am I, Remus." Minerva would have liked to offer more, but the public space prevented it. Before either of them could change the subject, the Chevaliers finished speaking with Jonathan and stepped over to Minerva and Remus.

"Congratulations, Minerva," declared Celeste. "Although, I must admit that I am not surprised."

"How are you feeling?" her husband asked, having noticed Minerva leaning a bit more heavily on her support than she had earlier.

"Fine, Jacques."

Unconvinced, the Healer replied, "Keep using the cane and remember to try to _rest_ as much as possible over the next few weeks. I have already spoken with your Madame Pomfrey about further treatment and limitations."

"I will do my best to follow your directives as much as possible."

"Yes, as much as possible…that merely means you will persist in your usual habit of considering everyone else first, and yourself last. That is not conducive to your health as you will take no time for healing and will push yourself. If I could, I would like to stay here and make sure you take the time needed. Unfortunately, Celeste and I must return to France within a day or two."

"I would like to spend some time with you before we leave. May we come to Hogwarts tomorrow?" Celeste enquired. "We need to discuss You-Know-Who's return and what that means for France."

"Would four o'clock be convenient?"

"Four o'clock then." After the pair departed, Minerva, Remus and Jonathan were the only people left in the courtroom. Remus and Jonathan fell into a discussion of civil rights as they made their way along the corridor, up the staircase, and into the lift. Exiting the lift, they passed into the Atrium.

"Well, this is my stop," said Jonathan. He had paused in front of one of the fireplaces.

"Thank you, Jonathan, for everything you have done."

"It was a privilege, Minerva." He grinned with a wink. "Besides, the look on that Toad's face was priceless. I'll send you an owl sometime soon." He grasped a pinch of powder from the stand beside the fireplace. Throwing it on the flames, he murmured to Minerva, "In the coming war, if you need me, in any capacity…"

"I will not hesitate to ask, Jonathan."

Jonathan nodded sharply, stepped into the fireplace, and shouted, "Ashford Law Offices, Edinburgh!" and whipped out of sight. When the flames had reclaimed their normal colors, Minerva strode, with Remus in her wake, to the visitors' entrance and ascended to the street level. Once outside, she continued until out of sight of the phone booth.

"Professor? If you would allow me?" Remus extended his arm. Her left hand settled upon his forearm, Remus apparated them to the dingy stretch of pavement in front of Grimmauld Place. Minerva landed slightly off balance. Instinctively, he reached to steady her, but Minerva regained her footing with an adroitness of a feline Animagus. Remus aborted the movement quickly.

Entering the house and descending into the kitchen, Arthur escorted Minerva to the seat at the head of the table while Remus was called upon to arbitrate an argument between Sirius and the twins as to which was the superior Quidditch team, the Wimbourne Wasps or the Ballycastle Bats. Tonks, her hair a vivid scarlet with gold streaks, abandoned her conversation with Alastor to join in the debate.

"Alastor, has any progress been made in determining the motives behind my attack?"

"Nothing solid. Kingsley managed to be present during the interrogations, but they claim not to remember the attack. They could be lying or have been placed under the Imperious Curse." Moody growled, "Snape hasn't heard anything and since the blasted fools won't let Dumbledore near the Ministry…I'm sorry, Minerva."

Minerva accepted this with a small nod, pondering the possibilities and deciding to try to speak with Kingsley personally at the first opportunity. While convalescing in St. Mungo's, she had seen him along with other members of the Order, but had been unable to talk openly. Her visitors had also apparently believed that discussing the attack would somehow distress her and refrained from even approaching the topic obliquely. Minerva had been unable to dissuade them of them of this opinion.

"Mum, when's lunch going to be ready?" Ron shouted across the room.

"Don't yell, Ronald. Lunch will be ready in a minute. You and Harry can get plates and start setting the table. Fred, glasses and George, there's pitchers of lemonade, pumpkin juice, and ice water in the cooler." Per Molly's directions, the younger Weasleys scuttled about the kitchen while Molly plated stacks of sandwiches and put two bowls of salad on the table with bottles of homemade dressings. As if summoned, Emmeline Vance and Mundungus Fletch appeared in time to secure spots at the table. Emmeline placed herself next to Tonks, opposite Remus, and Mundungus chose to avoid Molly, unwittingly provoking her irritation nonetheless by sitting himself next to twins at the other end of the table. Lunch commenced and attention was devoted to the food rather than conversation.

After the promised berry pies, one strawberry and one blackberry, had been brought forth and first helpings had been consumed, the group as a whole began discussing the events of the day albeit in very different manners. The more mature members considered the possible ramifications of the trial while those with a little less maturity, including Mundungus, Sirius, and Tonks, simply reveled in the defeat of the Toad.

"What will happen to Fudge, now?" Molly asked. "Will he be removed from office?"

"I don't think so, Molly," Remus answered her. "He can claim he knew nothing about Umbridge's crimes and the public will probably believe him, or at least, convince themselves that they do."

"Amelia Bones is investigating Umbridge fully. I'm sure that if there is any evidence the Minister knew what Umbridge is doing, she won't let it slide," Arthur pronounced.

"If Bones hasn't been comprised," muttered Moody, his false eye rotating to face the back of his skull. While Remus and Arthur endeavored to convince Mad-eye of Bones' trustworthiness, Molly kept her eyes focused on the twins who were huddled around Mundungus. Her hands twisted the napkin in her lap.

"Molly?" Minerva's query startled her. Smoothing out the napkin and laying on the table, Molly avoided the Professor's gaze. Minerva waited until Molly had folded the napkin several times into a small square and had still not replied. "You object to Mundungus associating with your children?"

"I know he's a member of the Order, Professor, and he is useful and Dumbledore says...but I don't think he's a good influence on them. He's a thief and I don't know where he learned his sense of right and wrong, because it's not what I would call acceptable."

"Your concern is understandable, but they are of age, Molly."

"I know that. I just want to protect them and after…" Trailing off, Molly fell silent, rose, seized a plate, and hurried over to the sink. Minerva gestured Arthur, who had stood up to follow her, to sit back down and went over to Molly.

"After Percy?" Her blunt statement caused Molly to drop the plate into the sink. Slowly, the Weasley matron turned to face the elder witch. Adjusting her position so the rest of the room could not see exactly what was going on, Minerva continued, "Is that what you meant to say?"

"Yes." Mrs. Weasley's voice was low, barely above a whisper. "How could he do it? How could he turn his back on his family? He didn't even, didn't even come to the hospital when Arthur was hurt? Didn't we teach him better than that?"

"You cannot blame yourself, Molly."

"But – "

"Listen to me, Molly. You did the best you could. You tried to show by example that family and character matter more than position or wealth or prestige. You have six, I would venture to say seven, children who have absorbed those lessons well."

"Percy…"

"Percy made his choice. Eventually, I believe he will recognize the wrongness of that choice. In the meantime, and if he does not, I strongly suggest that you do not burden yourself with misplaced guilt. The ultimate decision of how to conduct their lives rests in their hands, not ours."

"Do you really believe that, Professor? Maybe if I had taken more time, paid more attention – "

"I must believe it Molly." Tilting her head, Minerva watched Sirius ruffle Harry's hair as the boy tried futilely to flatten it into obedience. "We can teach them as best we can, but the choice is theirs. Not ours. I would not worry about the twins too much. Despite their antics, I am proud to have them in my house. They will never conform to the standard mold, but that does not mean they are deficient in character."

"I'll try, Professor." With a tight smile, Molly bustled off to order the table cleared. Seeing the others all absorbed, Minerva retrieved her cane from where it rested against her chair. Slipping out the door, she mounted the stairs. Even with the assistance of the cane and a hand on the wall to steady her, Minerva's muscles ached and trembled a little by the time she reached the library. She collapsed rather ungracefully into a worn leather armchair. Faintly, through the cracked doorway, she could hear the mumble of voices from the kitchen and based on the volume, she surmised that the Quidditch debate had resumed.

"Prof – Minerva?" Hovering in the doorway, Remus seemed uncertain of his reception. "I brought you a cup of tea. Molly thought you might like one."

"Thank you, Remus." Remus placed the cup, green with a silver base and handle, on the table at her side.

"You could return to Hogwarts," he said.

"Since I suspect Albus will request an Order meeting tonight, I thought it would be more expedient to simply remain here. Please tell Molly I said thank you for the tea." When he had left, after retrieving the hidden cache of Order papers at her request, Minerva let her head fall back against the creased leather. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath and then, opening her eyes, tapped the lamp beside her. Beginning with the reports concerning the incursion at the Ministry of Magic the day after her arrest, Minerva read, filling in the gaps in the fragmentary accounts she had received of the Order's activities since that time. She created duplicates in order to make notations here and there.

A trill interrupted her work. Fawkes swooped towards her, taking possession of an armrest. Folding his wings with a flutter of gold and scarlet, the phoenix crooned at her.

"Hello, Fawkes. Good afternoon, Albus," she directed her attention to the Headmaster whom Fawkes had abandoned to greet her. Rising, she remarked, "I see you have restored yourself to your usual unconventional appearance and wardrobe. I did not realize you owned robes in any shade of brown, let alone without decorations." The mundane outfit had he worn earlier as a disguise had been replaced by a sky blue robe that winked with silver embroidery even in the soft light of the library. Albus smiled, a chuckle escaping him.

"It's good to see you too, Minerva." He closed the short distance between them in two long strides. "I thought you knew it was me."

"Yes and you took an unnecessary risk by coming."

"I judged the benefits outweighed the risk."

"The benefits?"

"My dear, did you think I would deny myself the pleasure of watching you, and Mr. Ashford, pare Dolores and Cornelius down to size?" He gave her a repentant look. "I confess, the temptation was too great for me to resist."

"Evidently." After a moment of feigning disapproval, Minerva allowed a smile to trace her features. "And, may I ask, how you enjoyed the show?"

"Very much, my dear. It was the highlight of the season." The levity in his voice and manner fell away a little as he guided her to a seat on the couch. "How are you, my dear?" With a nod at the parchments she had laid aside, he said, "I have called an Order meeting for six o'clock tonight, but I don't believe there will be anything of interest discussed. You could return to Hogwarts."

She waited until he had sat down next to her before replying. "I am hardly an invalid, Albus. Besides, I have already missed far more than I anticipated. I will stay."

"Is there any possibility I could convince you otherwise?"

"I think you know me better than that."

"I do. However, I had to try. I don't want you to exhaust yourself."

"I will be fine, Albus. How is Hogwarts?" Shifting the subject, Minerva directed the conversation towards the school and recent Order activities. The afternoon waned as they discussed the reports from Tonks and Kingsley concerning the break-in at the Ministry, the whereabouts and activities of known Death Eaters and their sympathizers, and contingency plans for a full scale attack on any number of targets including Hogwarts, the Ministry, Diagon Alley, and St. Mungo's among other matters. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to six o'clock, Minerva broached the question of Harry Potter.

"I assume Mr. Potter will be returning to his aunt and uncle tomorrow?"

"He must." Abrupt and to the point, Albus' response sounded resigned, but determined. "It is for his protection. He will be safer there than anywhere else with the possible exception of Hogwarts." His gaze caught hers, unwavering and intense. Minerva's curled lip and clenched jaw line made her distaste for this idea perfectly clear. "I do not relish the thought of leaving him with them any more than you do. There is simply no other option. In a week or two, when certain arrangements are in place, he will be able to go to the Burrow or even perhaps return here."

"Either would be preferable to the Dursleys." With a slight shake of her head, Minerva declared, "I understand your reasoning, Albus, but that does not mean that I will ever completely agree with you on this subject. If it were not for the protection offered by blood magic, I would insist that he never go back to that house."

"As would I." In the silence that followed, Albus rose. He drifted away from Minerva, idly examining the dark tomes filling the shelves, encased in a layer of dust and cobwebs. Presently, he came across a blank shelf. "There are a few missing, it seems."

"Molly and Remus thought it best to remove certain volumes from library when it became clear that children would be living in this house. He provided me with a list in case one of them could be useful later and has kept them in his possession. Most of them deal with various aspects of the Dark Arts."

"'A little learning is a dangerous thing,'" Albus quoted softly. At Minerva's sharp glare, he admitted, "I have not told him."

"About the prophecy?" Minerva pushed herself to her feet, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "Why not?"

"It has not been necessary. I see no reason to burden him further at this point." Before Minerva could respond, the clock clanged six beats. "We should go down." He offered her his arm.

"This discussion is not finished, Albus, merely postponed," stated Minerva as she laid her hand on his forearm. She flicked her other wrist, summoning and shrinking the cane which was then slid into a hidden pocket of her robes. She glanced at Albus and was surprised to find a smile lingering on his face.

"It is wonderful to have you back, my dear. No one else challenges me the way you do. I felt quite lost without your wise guidance these past few months." Albus covered the hand resting on his arm with his opposite hand. "If you would be so kind as to avoid life threatening situations in the future, I would be most grateful."

"I will do my best."

"Thank you. Shall we?" He removed his hand from hers, gesturing towards the door. At her nod, he escorted her downstairs and the meeting commenced with their arrival.

* * *

In the western sky, soft tendrils of gold escaped from beneath the horizon, illuminating the few dusky indigo clouds and the façade of Hogwarts castle. The rapidly fading light traced the intricate swirls and spirals engraved upon the wooden doors, glinted off the windows, and caressed the grey stones of the parapets and towers. _Home at last!_ Minerva breathed out a quiet sigh and breathed in the familiar aroma of Hogwarts in the summertime, the clean crisp scent of the lake mixing with the perfume of the new grass and wildflowers and blooming greenhouses. Faintly, through the soles of her shoes, the pathway radiated the memory of the summer sun. Her eyes slipped closed. Even more than the physical sensations, the magic that infused the entire atmosphere told her that she was home. A gentle hum of power flowed through her body, gathering and intertwining with her own magic.

"Welcome home, my dear." Minerva smiled, opening her eyes to see his answering grin. Fawkes swooped around them before soaring off in direction of the Headmaster's Tower.

"It is good to be home." After her hand reclaimed its spot on his arm, the pair strolled towards the steps. As they mounted the broad stairs, the doors swung open to receive them at Albus' unspoken command. They passed into the Entrance Hall where Minerva caught sight of the hourglasses. None of them held jewels in the lower half as the school year had officially ended and they had been reset for the next year.

"How many points did Gryffindor have left by the end of term? When I left, I remember that we had only a few rubies remaining with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw not far behind. Dolores seemed to be attempting to set a record for the lowest number of points for a House in history and plunge Gryffindor into the negative values."

"She tried," Albus chuckled, "however, the rest of the staff, excepting Severus of course, decided to prevent it purely to spite her. They began to award points for any reason they could contrive. Pomona and Charity gave out ten points each time a student said please or thank you. Filius, Aurora, and Septima awarded points to any student who came to class on time and then gave out an additional fifteen or twenty points if the student brought his book to class. Correct answers were suddenly valued at fifty to seventy-five points apiece. I believe Miss Granger earned over five hundred points in a single day. Many students merited points because they 'contributed to the wellbeing of the student body through humor' according to Madame Pomfrey. As it happened, some of the largest point awards were bestowed on students who may or may not have contributed to Dolores'…problems although that might be purely coincidental. In the end, the total point score for Gryffindor was around three hundred and fifty with the other Houses in the same range. Given the irregular point system this year, I felt it would be unfair to award the House Cup unless more accurate totals can be calculated."

"Severus must be disappointed. I think he was anticipating a Slytherin victory, especially after losing the Quidditch cup." Minerva didn't quite manage to hide the tiny smirk of satisfaction from the recollection of her rival Head's expression when Ginny Weasley had snatched the Snitch, securing a Gryffindor victory. For a moment, Severus had blinked, appearing rather dazed before he had snapped his mouth shut and claimed Gryffindor had only won on luck, not talent.

"Yes, I heard that it was a spectacular game," commented Albus.

"It was. The team played well despite the loss of Potter and the Weasley twins. Miss Johnson proved to be a sound choice to replace Wood and the younger Weasleys seem to following in their older siblings' footsteps." As they talked, they climbed the staircase to the first floor, traversing the corridor and continuing upwards on another staircase. With each step, Minerva's hand weighed a little heavier on Albus' arm and her breathing became more labored. Her mouth tightened as her feet slowed.

"Will you choose Harry for captain next year?" Albus asked. Minerva nodded, one hand unconsciously pressing against her side. They reached the third floor landing and Albus pulled her aside. "I think I shall apparate us the rest of the way. I should have done so in the first place, except that I thought you might enjoy seeing the grounds and the sunset. I thought it would be a better homecoming than simply appearing in the corridor."

"I can manage. There is no need –" Minerva started to protest, but Albus prevented her from finishing her assertion that she did not require any help.

"Minerva, please allow me to do this." His entreaty caused Minerva's determination to make it on her own to waver. If he had argued about her strength or her health, she could have refused him, but the tone in his voice… _Perhaps this once,_ Minerva thought. _It has been a very long day and I am tired_. Once she admitted this fact to herself, an increased awareness of her aching muscles and constricted feeling in her chest depleted the last of her stubborn objections.

"Very well, you win," she conceded. In a moment, they were standing in the middle of her living room.

"Filius arranged for a Heads of House meeting at ten. Would you care to have breakfast in my office around nine?" asked Albus.

"Nine is rather late."

"I was hoping you might be take advantage of it and sleep in a little."

Minerva shot him a glare, his mother hen tactics becoming rather annoying, but realized he would probably refuse to change the time. "Nine o'clock, if you insist."

"I do. Goodnight, Minerva. Pleasant dreams."

"Goodnight, Albus." After the portrait had thudded shut behind him, Minerva retired to her bedroom and quickly readied for bed. Reyna had apparently retrieved the prescribed potion from Poppy and placed it on her dresser. Minerva poured out the indicated dosage, drank it, and washed it down with a glass of water. Within a few seconds of settling into bed, she fell sound asleep.

* * *

The sound of her name woke her. Dimly recognizing the voice, her hand stumbled onto the bedside table, searching for her glasses. Sitting up, Minerva shoved the spectacles into place and the figure of Dumbledore, standing in the open doorway, became identifiable.

"Albus, what is it?" she demanded as her feet slid to the ground and her fingers retrieved a robe from its hook on a bedpost. Being the gentleman that he was, Albus politely kept his gaze focused away from her, although Minerva had long ago learned to sleep in outfits that were suited for all types of midnight emergencies. When the tie was fastened, he looked directly at her.

"There has been a double attack. Dementors struck Elsfield, outside Oxford first. Once the main force of Aurors was dispatched, Voldemort assaulted the Ministry. Tonks was ordered to remain behind at the Ministry and managed to send word. The Order is assembling now to assist. I am joining them at the Ministry."

"Then go. If they attempt a three-pronged attack, I can hold Hogwarts."

"If the situation worsens or she believes Grimmauld Place to be unsafe, I have instructed Molly to bring the children here."

"Understood. I will watch for them." As Fawkes flamed into existence, alighting on Albus' shoulder, Minerva repeated, "Go." Albus grasped her hand, transferring the wards to her with a rush of power. Strictly speaking, a physical connection was not required, but the brief contact was heartening as their magics and the wards resonated together.

"If something happens to me –"

"Don't be dramatic, Albus." Despite the graveness of the situation, that induced an upwards quirk of his lips. Minerva ignored this, instead, tilting her head as if to ask why he was still there.

"Fawkes," Albus murmured and the phoenix hopped down to his wrist. "I will see you in a few hours."

"Good luck," replied Minerva, already unbinding her hair from its braid to rework it into a more practical bun. Albus disappeared, her final words following him into the ether. "Be careful." Minerva cast a glance at the empty space, placed the last pin in her hair, and proceeded to change into robes. Tugging on a pair of boots, Minerva straightened. Halfway across her living room, a sudden spike of pain forced her to return to her bedroom for the cane. _Jacques will not be pleased, _she thought. _Less than twenty-four hours out of the hospital and I am already involved in a crisis._ However much she disliked the prop, her body was vigorously protesting the insufficient amount of rest and the stress being placed upon her injuries. Minerva pushed the discomfort aside – she had more important matters to address. _Filius, Pomona, Severus, Poppy, Charity left after the trial, Aurora and Septima were already gone, Sybil – not that she would be of any use, Hagrid_. Fortunately, Albus had informed her of who remained in the castle that afternoon. Exiting her quarters, Minerva headed towards the Headmaster's Office.

"Ginger newts," she called to the gargoyle as she approached. It sprang sideways and Minerva stepped onto the moving staircase. When it deposited her at the top, she entered, the portraits hailing her.

"Good evening," Minerva responded. "Please send for the rest of the staff and ask them to wait here when they arrive. I also would like to speak with the ghosts if you could locate them. Thank you." Several Heads walked out of their portraits to perform these tasks and Minerva turned to face the wall of bookshelves at her right. Taking out her wand, she traced the outline of a miniature Hogwarts crest carved into the broad edge of the shelf upon which the sorting hat rested. The crest quartered and parted, the animals glowing with their House colour allowing her to place her hand in the open space between them. With a hiss, the snake wrapped itself around her wrist, fangs poised to bite. The other animals bared their claws and teeth, leaping upon the back of her hand.

"Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor," she declared. The animals dissolved into a shimmer of sparks which faded to reveal a darkened passageway in place of the bookcase. At her touch, crystal orbs flared and steadied, illuminating the narrow corridor. Steadying herself with one hand against the wall, seamless and smooth, Minerva advanced. After a sharp twist, the passageway opened into a domed chamber. Four standards hung from iron rods, one at each point of the compass: Gryffindor to the south, Slytherin to the north, Ravenclaw to the west, and Hufflepuff to the east. On the dome above, a projection of the night sky glimmered, spelled to show the stars even in the midst of thunderstorm. Underneath the apex, a circular stone table cradled a model of Hogwarts and the grounds. Minerva approached the table, examining the runes etched along the rim. She nodded, satisfied, and regarded the model itself. Created by the Founders, the model reflected not only the physical construction, but the magical aspects of Hogwarts as well. A gold line encircled the castle to designate the boundary of the grounds and wards. If the wards were weakened or breached, the vibrant gold would fade to a pale yellow or disappear entirely. At the moment, the gold held steady and strong. Minerva tapped one of the runes with her wand, causing an intricate lattice of various colors to appear in the air before her and settle over the castle. The Apparition wards, a spiraling turquoise strand, pulsed robustly. Meticulously, Minerva checked several more strands including the grays of the magic supporting the structure itself and the crimsons for the security measures.

Finished and finding everything in order, Minerva stepped back from the table. The lattice dissipated and she left the chamber, emerging from the passageway to find Filius, Pomona, and Severus awaiting her. As soon as she had cleared the doorway, the aperture vanished, an ordinary bookcase once again.

"Minerva, what is happening?" asked Filius. "The portraits told us that Dumbledore received a message about an attack." A rap of on the door and a muffled booming voice announced Hagrid's arrival before Minerva could respond.

"Come in," she called. Hagrid entered, followed by Poppy. Materializing through the door a few seconds later, Sir Nicholas glided into the room.

"Professor McGonagall, the ghosts have been assembled downstairs."

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas." Minerva positioned herself behind Albus' desk, allowing her to see everyone at once. "Voldemort has launched two attacks. The first target was Elsfield, a Muggle town outside Oxford. When the majority of the Aurors had been deployed, the Ministry was assaulted. Dumbledore has gone to support the Ministry. We need to prepare to defend Hogwarts if necessary."

"Is an attack likely?" questioned Pomona, sinking onto a chair.

"No." Heads twisted to focus on the Slytherin, but Severus said nothing more.

"Severus is correct." Attention returned to Minerva. "It is doubtful that Voldemort has the resources to attempt three simultaneous attacks at once, even if one or more are diversionary. Nonetheless, we cannot afford to be careless. The ghosts will patrol the corridors. Sir Nicholas, please direct them to keep a close eye on all entry points. Hagrid, you will be on the grounds with Fang. Poppy, make sure the infirmary is ready on the remote chance it is needed. Filius, Pomona, please station yourselves in the antechamber off the Entrance Hall. Severus and I will be moving about the castle. Communicate by Patronuses if the message is urgent, or the ghosts and portraits if it is not."

"Right, Professor," acknowledged Hagrid. He and Poppy left quickly, the matron reciting a list of preparations to be made in the infirmary. Sir Nicholas bowed to her and departed as well.

"Are the wards in order?" Filius enquired.

"Yes, I detected no irregularities or weaknesses."

"That's good," Pomona said, rising and walking with Filius to the door. "You will tell us if you hear anything from Dumbledore?"

"Of course." When the door had thudded shut behind them, Severus approached Minerva.

"If I am summoned…"

"Inform me before you leave. Did you have any indication that this was planned?"

"The Dark Lord intended to attack the Ministry again eventually, but nothing suggested another assault was imminent." Scowling, Severus commented, "However, the meetings have become more treacherous. He has been punishing infractions and failures very harshly."

"It appears then that his patience has run out."

"So it appears," replied the Slytherin as the pair exited the office. Minerva directed Severus to complete an inspection of the ground floor, leaving her to check the more covert means of entry into the school.

Minerva paused on the stairs leading up to the first floor from the Entrance Hall. Flashing across the flagstones, Tonk's chameleon scampered up the banister to her.

"Sirius is injured, potentially fatal. Molly and children are evacuating Grimmauld Place." As the chameleon evaporated, a tabby replaced it, swishing her tail back and forth. Minerva instructed her Patronus to order Hagrid to head to the gates. Without Albus, the wards could not be lifted to allow Molly and her charges to transport directly into the castle. Slowly, Minerva turned and descended the stairs, calling to Filius and Pomona who emerged from a side chamber when she reached the bottom. Her grave expression caused the pair to falter momentarily when they saw her.

"Minerva, what is it?" Pomona hustled over to her with Filius striding quickly to keep up. "What's wrong? Are we under attack?"

"No, Pomona, we are not under attack. I have been informed that Molly Weasley will be bringing her children and Harry Potter here shortly. Hagrid has gone to meet them at the gates. Pomona, please alert the kitchens and request that the second floor guest suite to be prepared. Filius, if you could notify Severus and ask him to meet me in Dumbledore's office. Tell him to wait for me as I must attend Molly and her charges first." Perplexed glances shot her way, curious as what circumstances resulted in this turn of events, but neither bothered to demand an explanation. Instead, they agreed and left to carry out their assigned tasks. When their footsteps died away, the hall gathered the silence in the shadowy corners unlit by the torches. During the year, even in the middle of the night when the whole castle was supposed to be slumbering, the cavernous space never felt quite so still, quite so empty. Lost in thought, Minerva's fingers trailed across a nick in the globe surmounting the post at the end of the banister. The rough edge of the nick caught at her skin and at her memory.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

"_Langlock!"_

"_Rictusempra!"_

"_Densaugao!" _

"_Stupefy!" Black dodged, laughing and the spell collided with the stone sphere with an explosion of dust. Raising his wand to respond, he suddenly cringed. Potter paled several shades as the rest of the students rapidly fled the scene of the crime. Minerva ignored the onlookers, her gaze pinned on the guilty parties. _

"_Black, Potter, explain yourselves!" _

_Glibly, Black said, "We were practicing for our Defense exams, Professor." He smiled at her, all innocence and charm. Unfortunately for him, he faced his Head of House and not a teenage girl. He withered underneath her glare while Potter shifted his weight from foot to foot. _

"_Ten points from Gryffindor apiece," Minerva declared. "Since you two seem to have such enthusiasm for the subject, both of you can spend Saturday assisting Professor Moore. She mentioned that her animal cages need a good scrubbing." They groaned. "Showing off is not considered practice. If this happens again, it will be detention for a week and fifty points from Gryffindor. Am I understood?"_

"_Yes, Professor," they grumbled before escaping out onto the grounds. As they ran down the steps, Minerva heard Black shout "I was winning, you know!" to which Potter replied indignantly "No, you weren't!" _

Death had already claimed one. Treachery and Azkaban had twisted the other, robbed him of his vital spirit, leaving only the tattered remnants of the boy she had watched tackle his best friend on that May afternoon. _Will I be forced to watch his funeral now? Will I stand beside another grave, another child consumed by war?_

The screech of the hinges jolted her into the present_. _The stray thought of _no one remembered to have them oiled while I was gone_ flitted across her mind as the right door swung open. She straightened, realizing she had been leaning against the banister. Outside, the stars glittered with no sign of the dawn. The dark silhouettes of Hagrid, Fang, Molly, and her students absorbed the light from the torches as they entered.

"Ere they are, Professor," Hagrid rumbled, "safe and sound." He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, causing stumble a little but he grinned tiredly up at the gamekeeper as Hagrid apologized.

"Thank you, Hagrid. If you could return to your patrol, I will handle things from here."

"Come on, Fang. Professor," he nodded at her before heading back outside, Fang at his heels.

"Molly, I've arranged for guest quarters for you and the children for as long as necessary. This way." The tap of her cane echoed in the dim corridors as Minerva lead them to a portrait of a Druid, blue whorls on his cheeks. "Confugo." After the portrait swung wide, the group passed into a living room. "There are four bedrooms and two bathrooms attached to this suite." Indicating first a door along the left wall and then a hanging twist of purple cord next to portrait hole, she continued, "They are located off the hallway through that door. If you need anything, pull this cord. I have alerted the house-elves. Molly, may I speak with you?"

Drawing Mrs. Weasley to one side, Minerva asked quietly, "What were you told?"

"Arthur sent a message that Sirius was very badly injured and might die. Dumbledore wanted us out of the house just in case." Molly wiped her hands on her apron, the fabric crumpled in places.

"I assume you have not told Mr. Potter yet?"

"No, I…I thought I should wait until we knew more. He is worried enough as it is and I didn't want to scare him when he can't do anything. Should I?"

"Not yet. The battle must be finishing if Tonks and Arthur could take the time to send us messages. Hopefully, it also means that Black has been attended to or transported to St. Mungo's. Dumbledore will contact us as soon as the assault is under control. Until then, we wait." Minerva glanced at the children, noting how the Weasleys had gathered around Harry. Returning her attention to Molly, she said, "I will most likely be in the Head's office if needed. The password is ginger newts. You should send a Patronus to Arthur to let him know that you have arrived safely." After Molly agreed, Minerva exited the suite and proceeded to the Head's Office, finding Severus already there.

"Black has been injured, I assume?" demanded Severus. Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw Phineas disappear at this pronouncement. "I see no other reason Dumbledore would order Potter and the Weasleys to evacuate Grimmauld Place."

"Yes. He must have refused to remain at Grimmauld Place or Albus needed every available wand, even Sirius' despite the risk."

With a sneer, Severus said, "The former is more likely. Black never wanted for idiocy or impulsiveness."

"Enough, Severus. Regardless of the bad blood between the two of you, you are both members of the Order. I expect you to show some common decency." Wisely, Snape kept the rest of his thoughts to himself. He could have pointed out that, had their positions been reversed, Black would have rejoiced at his misfortune. Indeed, in the past, Black had delighted in causing him pain and suffering. However, he held his tongue. Satisfied, Minerva moved over to Albus' desk and sat down, occupying herself with the paperwork lying upon it. Severus settled into the chair across from her, his gaze unfocused.

Suddenly, Severus gasped, his hand clamped around his left arm. "I've been summoned."

"I will inform Dumbledore," Minerva said. Rising, he strode towards the door, jaw clenched and face pale. "And Severus," he paused at her call, one hand on the handle to look back at her. "Be careful." The door shut without a reply as Minerva conjured her Patronus. When the tabby had departed, she attempted to concentrate on minor matters of Hogwarts. After her inability to prevent her thoughts from straying to the battle, Minerva capped the ink well and set the quill back in its holder. The chime of the clock taunted her, the uncertainties providing ample fuel for her imagination. If the assault exceeded their expectations…if Voldemort had more troops at his disposal…if the Ministry still refused to believe and turned against the Order…if Black died…if Severus was being called to his death…

_How many times have I done this? Waited for the outcome of a battle? Waited to know who survived and who did not? _Gripping her cane, Minerva stood, ignoring the pain and fatigue seizing her muscles. She moved over to the window and tied the curtains back. In the revealed sky, the moon rode closer to the western horizon, but no hint of dawn could be found to the east.

The wards shifted, humming with recognition. _Albus. _Making her way down to the Entrance Hall, Minerva caught the Headmaster as the doors opened to admit him. His steps were slower than normal, his shoulders a little bowed, and he failed to notice her at first.

"Welcome, home," her voice alerted him to her presence, standing at the foot of the stairs. Minerva waited until he drew even with her before asking, "How is Black?"

"At St. Mungo's. Emmeline is overseeing his treatment. He has not regained consciousness. However, he was most seriously injured. The Aurors and the rest of the Order suffered only minor injuries. "

"What about the Ministry?" she enquired, guiding him up the stairs towards the second floor guest suite. She assumed that Albus would wish to see their visitors, particularly Harry and Molly.

"Voldemort failed to penetrate the Hall of Prophecy, but needless to say, it convinced the Ministry to rethink its position." He offered nothing further and Minerva decided not to press him. Outside the guest suite, he paused. "I need to speak with Harry alone in my office. When I am finished, I must return to the Ministry."

"Will you tell him about the prophecy?'

"Yes. Confugo." After informing Molly and the students of the outcome of the assault, Albus and Harry left for his office. Molly stared at the portrait as it swung shut behind them.

"Why does Dumbledore want to talk with Harry alone? It has something to do with whatever is in the Department of Mysteries, doesn't it? He's a child, Professor, he shouldn't be involved." A glare warned the twins and Ron, who had crept closer to try to eavesdrop, to back away. Molly refocused her attention on Minerva, hands on her hips. "He is fifteen…he isn't old enough to be caught up in this war."

"He already is. Goodnight, Molly, children." Exiting the guestrooms quickly to avoid further pointless arguing with Molly, Minerva ascended the staircase to the seventh floor. She settled herself on a stone window seat near the Headmaster's Tower, close enough to hear Harry's eventual hurried departure, but out of sight. The heavy thuds of his footsteps faded as Minerva approached the gargoyle. Giving the password, she let the staircase carry her up and knocked on the door with three sharp raps.

"Come in." Minerva pushed the door open, sidestepping the cracked remnants of one of Albus' instruments. It lay crumpled in a heap of twisted wire and smashed glass. Carefully, Minerva avoided the debris, stopping when she stood in front of him. On the corner of his desk, the Pensieve swirled. Bent over the Pensieve, Albus peered into its depths. In the silver light, the only illumination in the room, the corners of his eyes glistened suspiciously.

"I told him."

"I know. He didn't take it well, I assume?"

"No." Minerva stilled, leaning against a chair for support. In the Pensieve, fragments of faces and silhouettes appeared – the Potters, Severus, Black – and were absorbed again into the mist. Finally, he raised his gaze to meet hers. "He blames me for Sirius' injury. He believes that I trapped Sirius in Grimmauld Place and that he would not have gone to the Ministry if he had been allowed to leave the house. He is also quite upset that I have withheld the prophecy from him for this long." Despite the blandness of the words, the heaviness in his voice betrayed the effect of Harry's accusations.

"Albus, his godfather is in St. Mungo's and he has just learned of a prophecy proclaiming him to be the only person capable of defeating the Dark Lord who murdered his parents. He is not thinking clearly – you must see that."

"I did not realize Sirius had accompanied us until we were already inside the Ministry. There was no time to send him back and Bellatrix targeted him particularly. In order to prevent Tom from reaching the Hall of Prophecy, I had to leave Sirius, Remus, and Alastor to deal with the Death Eaters. They were outnumbered. If I could have forced Tom to leave more quickly, Sirius might not have been –"

"Black made his choice. He knew the risks, Albus. You cannot take responsibility for the actions of others, either Black or the Death Eaters."

"I am responsible for every member of the Order as much as I am responsible for every student here at Hogwarts," he declared.

"There is a significant difference," Minerva stated bluntly, "the members of the Order are adults whereas our students are children. The Order members understand the importance of their work and have chosen to accept the risk." Changing track when he didn't reply, she inquired, "Will Harry and the Weasleys be remaining at Hogwarts?"

"No, I will take Harry to see Sirius tomorrow when I visit St. Mungo's and then return him to the Dursleys. Arthur will escort Molly and her children home to the Burrow once he can leave the Ministry."

"Perhaps you should let Harry spend some time with them here before you return him to the Dursleys in the afternoon rather than directly after visiting Black," Minerva suggested.

"That is a good idea, my dear, he should be among friends. Lumos." Flames flickered into life around the room, banishing the shadows. Albus straightened, meeting her gaze for the first time. "I must go back to the Ministry. While I am gone, you need to rest to regain your strength. And," he anticipated her protest, "don't pretend that you are not exhausted. Consider it an order, Minerva. Since the Ministry has accepted Tom's resurrection, you will be needed to administer Hogwarts while I deal with matters there."

"Very well. Should I consider our breakfast meeting canceled?"

"No, not unless I am unable to extricate myself from the Ministry in which case I will send word." He gave her a slight and halfhearted smile. After a glance around the room, he muttered, "Reparo." Avoiding the reassembling instruments, Albus took her arm, ushering her out of the office. Slowly, for Minerva's sake, he walked her back to her quarters.

"Goodnight, Minerva," he said softly as Queen Maeve bowed to the pair and opened the portrait hole.

"Goodnight, Albus. I will see you in the morning." As she stepped inside, she waved a hand at the candles on the mantle. In their flickering light, the glint off a framed picture caught her attention. Minerva touched the glass, the smiles of the Order members preserved for eternity beneath it. The frame bit into her hands as she grasped it. Memories flooded her – Lily beaming in her white dress with pink roses in her bouquet, Gideon plucking a coin from behind a first year's ear, Alice hiding her winces when Frank accidentally stepped on her toes, Caradoc slamming a Bludger away from his teammate, graven names on marble and the dull echoing thud of a coffin committed to the earth. _How high will the price be this time? How many lives will be destroyed before this war is over? _

"For once," the words barely escaped her lips, hushed and heavy, "I wish Albus had been wrong." There was no answer, the black and white figures beneath her fingertips continued to wave and grin and jostle each other good-naturedly, oblivious to the future. Gently, Minerva replaced the picture on the shelf.

"We will win this war." Whether this promise was made to herself or to the dead or to the living, she did not know. Turning, Minerva leaned on her cane as she moved towards her bedroom. Pain assaulted her at every step, exhaustion shaking her with fine tremors. There was little else she could accomplish tonight except sleep and restore some of strength which would doubtless be needed in the days to come. Tomorrow, tomorrow, the Wizarding world would be at open war.

Before sleep stole her away from reality, a half forgotten speech crept into her mind, emanating from the throes of another devastating war. _"You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word. It is victory; victory at all cost; victory in spite of all terror; victory, however long and hard the road may be."_

* * *

Author's Note:

The quote is from Winston Churchill from his first speech as Prime Minister in 1940.

We have reached the end of my story, dear readers. I may still add an epilogue or a oneshot, but otherwise this is the finale. With small adjustments (primarily that Sirius dies of his wounds), the story can now be reintegrated with Rowling's timeline if you so desire. If not, feel free to imagine your own continuation or, if the muse deigns to supply me with inspiration, keep me on your author alert.

I am most thankful for everyone who has followed this story and am especially gratefully to my reviewers. Without your kind words and support this endeavor would have never been completed.

Thank you.


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